


The Adventures of Harriet Potter: Year 1(Definitive Edition)

by Kleinnak



Series: The Adventures of Harriet Potter [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Female Harry Potter, Gen, Gender or Sex Swap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-06
Updated: 2012-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 13:14:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 108,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2230386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleinnak/pseuds/Kleinnak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time the greatest dark sorcerer of all time tried and failed to kill a one year old girl. Now ten years later the little girl is off to her first year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and a journey that will take her through her destiny as the Girl Who Lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Violinist

**Author's Note:**

> The primary purpose of this piece is "what would be different." Though not simply what things would the gender-swap change compared to canon, but what would stay the same. It's sort of a butterfly-effect examination of the series, hence, why the gender-swap is so focused, rather than a broader gender-swap.
> 
> Its secondary purpose, however, is to more broadly examine the magical world. For this reason, there are plenty of new characters, places, and creatures to encounter and explore.

“Nothing is ever as it appears. Ever does both preconception and experience colour perception. We cannot avoid them, but we can all better serve ourselves by being aware of their influence.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The sound of voices filled the open area in front of the large building. The din was so loud almost nothing else could be heard but the sound of the cars that bustled by in the crowded streets and streamed in and out of the parking lot. Throughout Paddington Station, the guards grumbled to themselves at the absurd levels of people pouring into the station. The veteran guards, of course, were prepared for it, as it was always like this on the First of September, though none of them could think of why.

The station was packed with crowds of travellers and commuters, but there were others who were at best difficult to ignore. They were often family groups with luggage, but that of course was normal enough. It was the presence of odd pets like owls and the strange way the adults dressed that caught the most attention. Not only that, but every one of the oddly dressed, owl-owning families were heading on to King’s Cross rather than Paddington itself.

It was hardly surprising then, in this influx of strangely dressed families with odd pets, that no one noticed the woebegone figure as he made way to a spot to the side of platforms nine and ten of King’s Cross. He was wearing a roughed and ragged coat that came down to his ankles and could have once been blue but now seemed a faded grey and a wide-brimmed hat which covered most of his face in shadow. He set a small cup on the floor and took a long-stemmed pipe from his pocket. He filled it slowly and lit it with a match. He then took a few long puffs and sighed, revelling the smoky flavour.

He leaned back against the wall and looked around at the still bustling scene as he puffed on his pipe. His eyes were keen and bright as he took in the passing travellers. In particular, he seemed most interested in the strangely dressed families. Unlike the guards, it wasn’t the odd clothes that seemed to interest him. Instead, his interest seemed focused on the owls and the faces of their young owners. It seemed more as though he was looking for someone in particular, rather than idle curiosity. However, he seemed to be finding it difficult to separate individuals from the other passengers, and he chewed the stem of his pipe in apparent frustration.

The man shifted in his seat and as if from nowhere produced a violin and bow. He looked it over carefully, almost worshipful, as he tested the tightness of the strings. Its surface was heavily scratched, and the varnish was splotchy and uneven. He played a few hollow notes as he tuned it, and several passers-by rolled their eyes or gave him disdainful looks as they passed. He took another puff on his pipe before he set it down and put the violin into the crook of his neck, and set the bow to the strings. He didn’t play at first; he merely closed his eyes and took a deep and reverent breath, as if just the position of holding the violin, ready to perform, was almost as moving to him as the actual performance.

Finally, his bow sprung to life sliding delicately and expertly over the strings, his fingers dancing on the neck as he played. Most of the passers-by paid him no mind, and he played on, just as oblivious to them in return. However, his music seemed irresistible to the families in cloaks, who would often pause to listen and even throw the occasional small bronze or silver coin into the cup, which despite its small size, never seemed to get full.

The ragged violinist played on, changing fluidly between simple folk tunes and the stringed pieces of symphonies. His eyes sparkled as he played, intently watching the families that came up to him to listen, studying them all as they approached to place coins into the cup. Suddenly he glanced up and paused, almost like a conductor who heard a wrong note amongst the orchestra.

There was another family approaching. A large, beefy, neck-less man with a bushy moustache was in the lead. Following behind was a long-necked, horse-faced woman, and a portly boy. The boy, in particular, seemed slightly anxious, eyeing everyone nervously and walking as if trying to keep anyone from seeing his enormous backside. The only other odd thing about the family was a trunk on a trolley which seemed to be following them of its volition.

The ragged violinist's eyes narrowed as he watched, but he finally smiled as the last member of the group came into view. It was a young girl who the chubby son had wholly blocked from sight. By the way she was following with her trunk, it seemed to be as if she'd been ordered to do so to keep the rotund boy's backside hidden. He noted that despite her diminutive size compared to him, the son didn’t seem all that happy with the walking arrangement, as though he was terrified of the girl who stood a head shorter than him. The violinist grinned more broadly as he noted that atop the trunk was a sizeable birdcage, and within was a large snowy owl.

He returned his attention to the girl. She looked to be around eleven years old; her hair was black, slightly untidy, shoulder length and covered most of her face as she nervously followed the other three. She was thin with knobbly knees and wore raggedy, second-hand clothing. The glint of glasses was visible through her fringe. The violinist finally resumed playing, but changed his tune yet again, playing a more whimsical score.

The girl paused while the remainder of her party kept heading into King’s Cross. She considered him and then started walking closer slowly, curiosity showing in her bright green eyes, which were prominent even through her glasses and thick, black hair.

As she approached, the violinist smiled to himself and spoke.

“It’s dangerous getting separated from your family in this day and age you know?” he said, just loud enough for her to hear him over the crowds behind her. His voice was gravelly, as if rarely used, thick and rough, though of a somewhat precise and calculated tone, apparently meant as a reprimand.

The girl blushed softly at the violinist's reproach. “They’re not my family, well, I mean not that kind of family…” she admitted.

The violinist nodded and played another few bars as the girl drew out a small pouch. “Still, best be catching up with them,” he went on while he played.

The girl pondered him for a moment, then looked around at the others going into the station, stepping aside as a woman in a cloak stopped to put a couple more silver coins in his cup.

“How come so few people notice you?” the girl asked as the woman walked away. “You’re incredible, but it's like some people can't even hear you."

The violinist chuckled and tilted his head to peer up at her from under the brim of his hat and winked, “Magic.”

The girl pondered him a few moments more before she finally reached into the pouch, drew out two large golden coins, and bent down to drop them into the cup. He kept his head tilted just enough to note the peculiar lightning-shaped scar on her forehead. At the same time, she finally looked into his face and seemed a little surprised to see him looking at her.

She jumped as a loud voice behind her bellowed, “Girl!” It was the large man who’d led their group. “Get away from that riff-raff; we haven’t got all day!”

“S-sorry,” the girl called, heading off after the man, who gave the violinist a scathing, sceptical look before turning back into King’s Cross. The violinist pondered after the two for a moment, before picking up his pipe again and relighting it.

“So… that’s the Girl Who Lived, eh?” he muttered under his breath chewing the pipe stem.

The violin had vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. The Violinist got to his feet, dusted himself off, and blew a smoke ring before he headed off towards a nearby alleyway. He hung his head, deep in thought, casually puffing on the pipe as he reached the alley.

The violinist glanced over his shoulder, chuckling when he saw the fat, neck-less man leading a guard back outside. The fat man was looking incredulously at the area where the violinist had just been sitting. The guard rolled his eyes in frustration leaving the fat man to rant on about riff-raff and strange folk. The violinist shook his head in amusement and finally stepped into the alley. He drew a long, thin, wooden wand, shaped somewhat like a violin bow, from his coat pocket.

He raised it but paused to turn around again as a deep, though friendly, voice piped up. “Ah, so here you are Sherrod; what brings you here so far from home?” asked the man who just stepped into the alley behind the violinist.

The violinist chuckled and doffed his hat, bowing to the newcomer. The newcomer was tall, and very old, with waist length white hair and a beard, and half-moon spectacles. He was wearing midnight-blue robes and a tall pointed hat.

“Ah, and a good morning to you, Albus. As for my presence, let’s just call it some ‘scouting’ as you might say,” said Sherrod. His voice was changed now, still thick and slightly gruff, but less gravely, a hint of laughter in it.

“Scouting?” asked Dumbledore, striding into the alley as his piercing blue eyes surveyed the younger man thoughtfully.

Sherrod chuckled in a good-natured way and nodded, putting his hat back on. “Oh yes, Albus, you don’t think you’re the only one with a vested interest in the girl’s future, and safety do you? Or that of the rest of the Wizarding World’s?”

Albus took a few steps closer. “Sherrod, you do recall our discussion on this from ten years ago, I’m sure…” he said though in a hardly threatening tone, more that of a parent reminding a precocious teenager of the house rules.

“Oh yes, I remember,” Sherrod replied and nodded. “I was simply interested in seeing just what sort of person young Miss Potter had grown into under your watch, Albus…”

Sherrod looked up and smiled warmly at the older man.

“You were right, as always, Albus,” Sherrod said conceding. “She has grown into an outstanding young woman; you can tell that within a minute of talking to her. Modest, and very intuitive, despite the obviously rough life she has led. It does build one's character I suppose,” he said, drawing out the two galleons that the young girl had put into his cup.

“She knew I was a wizard; she took out her pouch of Wizarding money right away. Granted, given her family, I’m assuming, rather safely I’m sure, it’s the only money she does possess.”

He paused and contemplated the galleons. “She could have given me sickles or knuts, but she gave me two galleons. I’m sure this will be most helpful to our scholarship students, every bit helps,” he went on re-pocketing the galleons.

Dumbledore chuckled, and the two men strode towards each other, clasping their hands tightly and beaming broadly in a sincerely heartfelt greeting.

“I’m glad you approve, Sherrod,” Albus said as they broke the hand-clasp, and patted the younger man on the shoulder. “It was all a gamble, but she has indeed developed into a most engaging child. Arabella has kept me well informed of her progress growing up.”

“Old Figgy!” exclaimed Sherrod, smiling. “So you’ve had her watching out for our little survivor, eh?”

“Oh yes,” replied Dumbledore, “she has proved most useful, even if, alas, she has been required to help in keeping Harriet’s lot as unenviable as possible, though her family necessitated that, unfortunately. How’s her grand-niece doing, incidentally? She’s a dancer I believe?”

“A magnificent dancer. Do tell Arabella I said so personally, won’t you?”

“I most certainly will,” Albus replied smiling merrily. “How are you, Sherrod? How goes the running of Rathlin?”

“Ah, my life bides fine. It's business as usual, truth-be-told. Theatre students badgering art majors; primary students running amok. Managing sixteen hundred students is no small order, after all."

“No, I shouldn’t think so, even for a headmaster as youthful and talented as yourself,” said Dumbledore nodding.

Sherrod bowed and smiled roguishly. “And what about you and Hogwarts?” Sherrod asked in return.

“Oh it has been par the course these past ten years, though I am sure now young Miss Potter is joining our student body that is about to change dramatically,” Dumbledore replied wistfully.

Sherrod suddenly looked severe, and his eyes darted around as if looking for an eavesdropper. “I have information, Albus; it’s the reason I was here checking on Harriet as she got to the station. I mean—only her family for protection, away from her aunt and uncle’s house—it was where she was most vulnerable. I’m sure you heard about Gringotts?”

“Of course,” said Dumbledore, listening intently.

“The item isn’t safe anymore… not even at Hogwarts. He’s on the move; he has left his nest and found another to do his bidding, according to the High Council. Neither is Harriet safe; keep on your guard this year, Albus, and keep Severus on the alert as well. That’s all the information I can give you for now. Dark times are coming, even if the Girl Who Lived is finally learning and walking her true path.”

Albus nodded, digesting the information. “Thank you, Sherrod; I was sure something like this would happen, that’s why I had it moved from Gringotts—in just the nick of time it seems. Yes, I will give the Stone every defence necessary, and Harriet as well. Indeed, you may even want to consider Harriet herself may be a defence against that which we fear most.”

Sherrod nodded thoughtfully, before changing the subject. “How are Nicolas and Perenelle, by the way?” he asked vacantly, still deep in thought.

“Oh as fine as ever for people of their rather considerable age,” Dumbledore replied chuckling. “Their second youngest umpteenth great-grandchild, Dora, starts at Hogwarts this year,” Dumbledore went on smiling.

“Ahh yes, so their youngest Emma will start in… two years then?”

“Indeed.”

“Though we will certainly lament the loss of young Miss Martinez, she was an incredibly promising talent,” Sherrod said giving Dumbledore a slightly reproving look.

Dumbledore merely chuckled. “Ah Sherrod, time and again this happens, it is ever so unfair of you to keep holding it against me that students leave from your primary to come to Hogwarts instead of continuing to your academy. We do not have a primary school of our own to compete.

“I’m sure Miss Martinez will prove an incredibly capable witch as well as dancer and singer. Hogwarts most certainly will not steal that love and joy of art you and your staff worked so hard to nurture,” Dumbledore said with a soft chuckle.

Sherrod grimaced before changing the subject. “There’s more news Dumbledore, again nothing I’m sure you haven’t heard but just in case, you are aware of the situation going on across the pond?”

Dumbledore nodded too, gravely. “Yes, yes I have heard rumblings…”

“It’s quickly becoming far more than rumblings. We’re getting pretty regular updates, particularly as we’ve had several American families pull their children from the school over this fiasco. They’re on the verge of all-out warfare. The American Wizarding government is preparing to mobilise, and several states are poised to try and secede. Does no one pay attention to history in that damned place?” Sherrod went on, muttering the last sentence darkly and waving his hand vaguely to the west.

Dumbledore sighed. “No, leastwise not to Muggle history at any rate.”

“Should war break out, it will be difficult to keep it contained. This will be like nothing we have seen for a long time. This won’t be anything like Voldemort; there won’t be anything secretive about this. This won’t be coup and cunning; this will be all out warfare. This will be something even more dangerous, a war between two sides who believe they are both completely on the right. We need to be ready, Albus and Fudge must be prepared for the fall out should a civil war in the States break out, because we will feel the effects here, make no mistake.”

Dumbledore nodded, putting a reassuring hand on the younger man’s shoulder. “I shall speak to the Minister as soon as possible on what, I assure you, is our shared concerns, Sherrod. You have my word.”

Sherrod exhaled in relief and took a few more puffs on his pipe before pulling out a watch with hands consisting of planets. “Well, then I must be back off to Rathlin—it’s our first day back as well—ah how time flies over the summer. Shall I give regards to Watkins for you?”

“You may indeed,” nodded Dumbledore smiling and clasping Sherrod’s hands in his again. “I do so miss his spirited performances.”

Sherrod chuckled. “Oh yes, I’m sure he’d appreciate being able to integrate Fawkes into a future performance again as well. Well then, have a good term Albus, I will pass along whatever information I can as it comes to me, and please be sure to do the same. It will be difficult, but we may be able to hold him off again.”

The two broke their handshake and took a step back, sighing as two dear friends parting far too soon after too long apart.

“Oh, one last thing, Albus,” said Sherrod in sudden afterthought.

“Yes, my dear man?” asked Albus in reply.

“How did you know it was me?”

Dumbledore chuckled, and his eyes twinkled a little over the half-moon spectacles as his moustache quivered in a smile. "My dear Sherrod, only the esteemed Headmaster of Rathlin School of the Arts (and Magic of course), possesses a violin that is only audible to whomever its possessor wishes to hear it. And I could not help but notice a few of your breath-taking compositions sneaking in as well between the Beethovens and the Bachs and the playful ditties," Dumbledore replied chortling.

Sherrod smiled and without another word doffed his hat again, bowed low and swept the ground with it before disappearing with a loud crack. Dumbledore chuckled softly, turning and looking back out towards King’s Cross.

“Have a pleasant trip, Harriet. I shall see you at Hogwarts,” he said under his breath before he too vanished with a loud crack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherrod Howe credits originally go to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
> 
> Gen (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk credits to "Avatar: The Last Airbender"...you'll find out in book 6, mwahaha.
> 
> Story originally the ideas of my friends: night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> I'm just their humble scribe... haha.
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	2. The First Train Ride

“The key to friendship is acceptance and understanding. You must accept that no one is perfect, not even yourself. But before you can accept, you must understand what makes others and yourself the way you all are. And once that is achieved, you can weather any storm with them.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Meanwhile, back inside King’s Cross, Harriet watched in disbelief as the Dursleys walked away, laughing hysterically. She looked around anxiously, wondering what to do. There were guards about, but every one of them looked agitated and stand-offish, and she didn’t feel like pestering them.

She looked at the big clock on the wall feeling antsier and antsier. She didn’t have much time left. She’d have to ask someone. Maybe, just maybe, that violin player outside the station would know how to find the platform. He was probably here a lot, perhaps he’d heard of it before.

No, he’d sounded so disapproving of her being alone when she’d walked over to him before. But maybe he’d seen the Dursleys leave too, and would know she was now alone. Then she remembered how Uncle Vernon had brought out a guard to shoo the man away after they had gotten into the station. That meant he wouldn’t be there anymore.

Finally, she made up her mind and walked up to a guard who looked not quite as busy as the rest.

“Excuse me, sir,” she started tugging on his sleeve. He looked around confused before looking down and seeing her. His irritated and gruff demeanour vanished instantly as he smiled.

“Yes dear, what may I do for you?” he asked giving a quick look around as if looking for her parents.

“Well, I’m… I’m supposed to get on a train on Platform Nine and Three Quarters…” she explained nervously.

The guard’s smile faded, and he looked at her with a furrowed brow. “Nine and Three Quarters?” he asked confused. “There is no Platform Nine and Three Quarters, who told you that?”

“It, it’s on my ticket, sir.” She went on, looking up at the guard nervously. He furrowed his brow looking around again.

“Are you here alone?” he asked curiously.

Harriet nodded.

“Who brought you here, your parents?”

Harriet opened her mouth to explain when suddenly she felt a hand on each of her shoulders.

“There you are you little scamp!” said a boy’s voice, starting to pull her away.

“Sorry, sir! She’s our cousin! We’re from up north, and she’s coming to stay with us for her schooling. We were meeting up here to take her home with us,” said another boy’s voice.

Harriet looked over her right shoulder to see a tall, red-haired boy smiling at the guard innocently. She looked over her other shoulder and blinked seeing the same boy standing there too. She looked back and forth again before realising it was a pair of identical twins.

The twin who had just spoken was pointing across the station to a family group, all of whom with flaming red hair. It was a sizeable family it seemed, five children including the two who were holding onto her shoulder. They were three boys and two girls, standing around a plump woman who was giving the guard a kindly smile as she waved at him. The most reassuring sight, however, was the owl in a bird-cage sitting on their luggage. They were witches and wizards too.

Harriet looked up at the guard, who seemed a little reassured, but still had an air of scepticism as he returned his attention to Harriet.

“Is that your family?” he asked.

Harriet looked back over her shoulder and looked at the plump woman again. Her smile was warm and inviting, and she gave a soft nod. As Harriet turned to look at the guard still, she also caught the eye of one of the twins who gave her a surreptitious wink. She looked back up at the guard and smiled.

“Oh yes sir,” she said, trying her best to sound relieved. “My aunt and these are my cousins; I’m from out of town too,” She lied quickly. The guard looked the family over again.

“Alright miss, glad your family found you, have a good trip all of you,” he said and waved at the woman who waved back smiling. The twins grinned as they led her back to the family.

“Well done,” said the one on her right.

“Yeah, quick on the uptake, I like that,” said the other twin who also gave her a wink.

“I’m Fred by the way,” said the one on her right.

“And I’m George,” said the other.

“And this is our mum,” said Fred as they reached the family.

The woman smiled warmly down at Harriet and gave her a quick one-armed hug. “Hello dear,” said the woman in a sweet, motherly tone.

She gave Harriet an odd feeling. It wasn’t unpleasant—far from it—just one she didn't find familiar. It was somewhat like the feeling Harriet would get stepping out into warm sunlight after a long time in her cupboard under the stairs. To her surprise, Harriet realised she felt safer and closer to these people than she'd ever felt with the Dursleys, and she'd only just met them.

“Your first time at Hogwarts?” the woman asked in a concerned voice, and Harriet nodded. She patted Harriet’s cheek softly. “It’s our Ronnie’s first year too, dear. Come with us, we’ll see you on the train.”

“Oh thank you,” Harriet said exhaling deeply. “I’ve been trying to find the platform, but it’s so busy, and I was told by my uncle and the guard over there that there is no Platform Nine and Three Quarters,” she went on feeling emotional from the relief and the situation as a whole.

The woman smiled in a motherly way, patting Harriet’s cheek again. “Oh, it’s quite alright dear. Come with us. I’m Mrs Molly Weasley, and this is the eldest here, Percy,” she said putting her hand on the shoulder of the tallest of the boys, who wore horn-rimmed glasses. He nodded down at her imperiously. Indeed, he slightly reminded Harriet of the owl that was sitting on top of the trunk he was pulling.

“And this is Fred and George,” she said moving on to the two twins who had already introduced themselves. They both nodded similarly to the way Percy had done, but their faces were much warmer, and undoubtedly much more prone to laughter. Harriet smiled back at them.

“And here is our oldest girl, Ronnie, and our youngest, Ginny,” Mrs Weasley went on.

Harriet greeted them both. Ronnie was tall for their age, and was wearing jeans with scuffed knees and had a smudge of dirt on her nose with shoulder-length, straight red hair that fell on her face. The younger girl, Ginny, seemed only a year younger than Harriet and Ronnie and was looking back at Harriet with a warm, inquisitive smile. Ginny also wore old, second-hand clothes, though her hair was long and came down almost to her waist.

“I’m Harriet,” she said smiling at them all.

Mrs Weasley beamed down at her and gestured towards the barrier between platforms nine and ten.

“Well my dear, this is the doorway here, hidden to the Muggles. Ronnie, it’s your first time too, why don’t you and Harriet here go together? Take it at a run, dears—don’t be afraid of crashing into it!” she added in afterthought.

Harriet lined up her trunk next to Ronnie’s. She felt a little foolish, about to run at a solid brick wall. Ronnie smiled at her somewhat smugly.

“I’ve done this more than a few times; just keep right by me and keep going,” Ronnie said reassuringly.

Ronnie counted down from three, and together, they started. Harriet ran, pushing her trolley as best she could while trying to keep pace with the taller girl beside her. The barrier kept getting closer and closer. Finally, Harriet closed her eyes, waiting for the collision.

It never came. The next thing Harriet knew, she felt Ronnie’s hand on her arm, pulling her to a stop. She opened her eyes and at the same moment became aware of the entirely new cacophony of noise all around them.

A steam whistle sounded, and cheerful voices filled the air. Owls hooted, cats meowed, frogs croaked, people laughed. The large steam engine before them was scarlet, and Harriet sighed in relief, seeing the words “Hogwarts Express” emblazoned on its side. Ronnie grinned at her and turned seeing the rest of the family making their way through.

“Well, here you are dear, safe and sound and just in time. You’d better get your things on the train and start meeting your fellow students and making new friends!” said Mrs Weasley, beaming down at her.

Harriet smiled back. “Oh thank you so much, Mrs Weasley,” Harriet replied, and Mrs Weasley gave her another soft hug around the shoulder.

“Here, we’ll help you with your trunk,” said George, eagerly, picking up Hedwig in her cage. Hedwig clicked her beak aggressively.

“Er, I’ll help with the trunk,” Fred said grabbing it up though grunting and muttering “blimey” under his breath as he tried to carry it. George glowered at Fred a little and followed, still carrying Hedwig.

Harriet looked at Ronnie, who looked just as confused as she shrugged and Harriet went off after them. Fred was forced to set her trunk down, and George put Hedwig back on top of it again. They lifted it together, carrying it onto the train for her, manoeuvring it in and down the hall and into a compartment. They set Hedwig down on the seat gingerly and hoisted her trunk up onto a rack for her. They paused in a self-satisfied way and smiled down at her.

“Well, there you are m’lady,” said Fred bowing deeply.

“A pleasure to have been of service,” said George bowing even more deeply, drawing a scathing look from Fred. Harriet barely suppressed a giggle at them and smiled.

“Well, thank you both very much, you’ve been my… knights in—um—shining armour…?” she said feeling slightly ridiculous. Fred and George smiled in, if possible, an even more self-satisfied way.

“Well, if you need us, we’ll be down the other end of the train. Come on George, if we don’t say goodbye Mum’ll have a Howler chasing down the train,” said Fred and they turned to leave.

As they did, Harriet absent-mindedly brushed her hair back behind her right ear. George paused, noticing out of the corner of his eye. He did a double take and fell back against the wall in shock as if someone had shoved him. His reaction was so sudden that Harriet started and Fred stopped, looking confused before he too his face became dumbstruck.

“What?” Harriet asked, bemused too at their reactions.

“Y-your forehead! That—that scar!” stammered George, still looking shocked, but now more amazed than aghast.

“Are you…? You’re Harriet Potter, aren’t you?!” exclaimed Fred in awe.

Harriet felt her face growing hot and knew she was starting to blush.

“I—well—yes,” she replied.

She felt anxious now like she had in the Leaky Cauldron and in Ollivander’s that summer when the Hogwarts game-keeper, a giant man named Rubeus Hagrid, had taken her to Diagon Alley, a wizarding shopping district in London for her school supplies. Everyone had known who she was there as well.

Fred and George continued to gawk, Harriet looking around a little nervously.

“Well, y-your family’s waiting, I won’t keep you,” she said before ushering them out of the compartment. She shut the door and flopped down into one of the seats, heaving a sigh. “Hagrid was right…” she mumbled under her breath. “Everyone does know my name…”

She looked out the window but ducked as she realised the Weasley family was standing right below her. She felt her blush grow as she heard the twins re-join the group.

“Mum!” she heard Fred say. “That girl we helped get onto the platform! Know who she is?!”

“Who?” asked Mrs Weasley, sounding distracted.

“Harriet Potter!” said George.

Immediately the younger girl, Ginny, started talking. Harriet could almost picture her tugging her mom’s sleeve in her excitement.

"She is?!" Ginny asked in a shrill voice. “Mum, can I go see her? I want to—”

“No, Ginny,” said Mrs Weasley, disapproving. "She's not a circus attraction to be ogled! Is she really?" she asked. "How do you know?"

“She told us, even showed us the scar!” answered Fred, excitedly.

“Oh, the poor dear,” Mrs Weasley went on, her voice full of concern. “I wondered what she was doing here alone, and she was so polite—the poor thing…”

“Do you think she remembers You-Know-Who at all?” asked Fred. Immediately Mrs Weasley’s voice changed to waspish outrage.

“I forbid you to ask her, Fred! As if she needs reminding of that on her first day at Hogwarts! Now, here, I’ve packed you all your sandwiches. Be good you two,” she said in a dangerous tone. “If I hear one word about you having blown up a toilet or—”

“Blown up a toilet? We’ve never blown up a toilet!” said George, disgruntled.

“Great idea though, thanks, Mum!” said Fred.

She heard the sound of feet pattering away on the pavement and Mrs Weasley calling after the twins.

Harriet sighed, staring up at the ceiling as she heard the conductors slamming the doors of the train shut. She watched out the window as the train started to chug to life, slowly pulling away from the platform. Ginny was running along with the train, a little further back, waving and obviously crying before she ran out of platform and had to stop.

Harriet sat back, trying to wrap her head around all that had happened. She was going! She was going to Hogwarts. A school for people like her and no Dudley and his gang to antagonise her.

The door to her compartment slid open, and Harriet looked to see Ronnie standing in the doorway. She looked embarrassed glancing down the corridor before looking back at Harriet.

“S-sorry,” Ronnie said looking anxious. “But everywhere else is full… c—can I join you?” she asked.

Harriet smiled and nodded. Ronnie looked relieved and took a seat opposite of Harriet, looking at her contemplatively.

“Are you really Harriet Potter…?” Ronnie asked abruptly, with the same air of scepticism in her voice that her mother had used.

Harriet nodded.

“The scar and everything?”

Harriet just pulled her hair back to show her.

Ronnie gaped with an open mouth. “Wow… I mean—sorry—didn’t mean to sound all doubting I just… Fred and George are sort of jokesters, so you kinda…”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” Harriet smiled. “Is your whole family wizards?” she asked, her curiosity at this obviously “Wizarding family,” like she’d heard about, starting to win her over.

“Oh yeah,” said Ronnie in a bored tone. “Well, I think I have an uncle who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him. Is it true you were brought up by Muggles?”

“Yeah, my aunt and uncle,” Harriet replied.

“What are they like?”

“Horrible,” Harriet answered. “Well my aunt and uncle are, but lots of Muggles are nice. Like one of our neighbours, Mrs Figg. She’s a bit batty—and okay I never really have much fun when I’m over there—but she is really nice all the same.”

Ronnie nodded still seeming awestruck.

“So what’s it like, growing up in a Wizarding family?”

Ronnie shrugged. “It’s alright, not sure how to compare it. My family’s huge; you only met part of my brothers. There’s my eldest brother, Bill. He’s already left Hogwarts, and he’s now a curse-breaker for Gringotts working in Egypt. My second eldest brother, Charlie’s, also left already; he’s studying dragons in Romania—”

“Dragons?!” Harriet exclaimed, starting to feel overwhelmed by the talk of dragons. Hagrid had spoken about wanting one as a pet that summer.

“Yeah,” said Ronnie with an indifferent shrug. “Then there’s Percy who you met. That’s about as cheery as he ever gets…” she muttered under her breath. “And then there’s Fred and George of course—”

“You called, little sis?” came Fred’s voice from the doorway. The twins were back and grinned at Harriet.

“Well nice to see you two found each other,” said George.

“Should’ve known our butch little sister would make the real first move,” Fred said in a taunting tone that made Ronnie go as red as her hair.

“Shut up,” said Ronnie getting up and starting to push them out. “It was you two—”

Fred and George simply chuckled and ruffled her hair. “Come on little sis, we’re just having some fun with you,” Fred sighed.

“Yeah,” said George, “anyway, just wanted to say if either of you needs us we'll be down the back end of the train, Lee's got a giant tarantula he's trying to smuggle in. See you Harriet, Ronal—”

He started to say in one last taunt, but Ronnie gave a final shove and pushed both out into the corridor, slamming the door after them and dropping back into her seat grumbling.

“Sorry about that,” said Ronnie brushing her bangs back out of her eyes.

“You should see my cousin,” said Harriet, pointing to her glasses with the cello-taped bridge. Ronnie looked with raised eyebrows.

“Did he do that?” she asked shocked. “Boys are such jerks…” she grumbled crossing her arms.

Harriet twisted her mouth a little sympathetically before more curiosity overtook her.

“So… was he about to call you ‘Ronald’…?” Harriet asked, but regretted it immediately upon seeing Ronnie’s face go bright red again.

“Oh, well, long story… anyway, yeah that’s Fred and George,” she said changing the subject rapidly. “And you met Ginny, my younger sister. She and I get on pretty well, I mean we’re the only two girls, after all, so we kinda stick together,” Ronnie said before she sighed looking out the window as the train moved along.

“I guess I’ve got a lot to live up to… Bill was head-boy. Charlie was captain of his Quidditch team. Percy's a prefect, while Fred and George cause a lot of trouble, but they’re really popular and get good marks, so everyone loves them. But I’m the first girl in our family, so I feel like I have to do it all, too…” Ronnie went on still looking out the window though she suddenly looked back.

“It’s not all been bad though, at least I get newer clothes. Fred and George have mostly had to get hand-me-downs, though it does make them a bit jealous sometimes I think. And I mean I like them, but we don’t get on much. I did get handed down Percy’s rat though, Scabbers,” Ronnie said and reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a rat. If Harriet couldn’t see him breathing slowly, she'd have thought he was dead.

“He’s useless though; just sleeps all the time,” Ronnie stuffed the rat back in her pocket and sighed.

Harriet sighed too. “I don’t know, I guess I have a lot to live up to too, but I don’t know what or how really. Everyone seems to know me, and they say I’m famous, but I don’t even remember what I’m supposed to be famous for.”

Ronnie looked up curiously. “Nothing at all?”

“No,” said Harriet. “Well, I remember a lot of green but other than that no, nothing. Not until Hagrid finally told me all about being a wizard and what happened to my parents and Voldemort anyway.” Harriet admitted honestly.

At the name ‘Voldemort,’ Ronnie let out a gasp and a squeak that Harriet didn’t quite think suited her. Ronnie jumped so severely, her rat, Scabbers, hopped out of her pocket and down onto the seat, where he immediately fell asleep again.

“What?” asked Harriet, her heart racing, Ronnie’s reaction having also startled her.

“You said his name! Out loud!”

“Who, Vold—”

Ronnie hissed a little at even just the first syllable of the name, so Harriet didn’t finish the word.

“S-sorry,” stuttered Ronnie, looking both impressed and still slightly terrified. “I mean you’d just think that you, out of anyone, would have the hardest time saying his name!”

Harriet merely shrugged. “I told you, I don’t know anything about the Wizarding world, or any of the rules, I have so much to learn… I just know I’m going to be awful at everything…”

“Nah. Honestly, I probably don’t know any more magic than you do. I mean yeah I’ve grown up seeing magic, but I’ve never actually been able to perform it.”

“Why not?”

“Blimey, we’re not allowed to do magic outside of school! And I only just got my wand anyway,” she said and drew it out, examining it wearily. “It’s not new either. It’s Charlie’s old one. He just got himself a new one.”

Harriet nodded, trying to hide the fact that even someone from what was apparently an ‘old wizarding family,’ didn’t know any more magic than she did had cheered her up considerably. She returned her attention to the window and realised how far they had travelled in such a short amount of time. Harriet took the time to ask Ronnie some questions, which Ronnie seemed only too happy to answer when she could.

“So, where is Hogwarts, exactly?” Harriet asked.

Ronnie shrugged. “Don’t know exactly. I mean, never been there before either, have I? It’s way north though, train ride takes about eight and a half hours I’ve heard, so it’d have to be in Scotland I’d say. Has a lake by it, in the wild, miles away from Muggles.”

Harriet nodded, absorbing the information.

“It’s a great big castle,” Ronnie went on. “Tall towers and gates and all that. Ghosts and other things all over. I’ve tried to ask Charlie the most about what it’s like, because Percy’s just a know-it-all prat, and Fred and George… you can guess how reliable anything they tell you is.”

Harriet smiled and nodded. “I’ve never seen a castle before; I’ve hardly ever even left Privet Drive where I grew up, except to go to school or… zoos…” Harriet muttered the last word, the memory of that odd and unpleasant day still uncomfortable.

“What are Muggle neighbourhoods like?” Ronnie asked.

Harriet shrugged now. “Boring. Privet Drive is, anyway. Little cookie-cutter houses that all look the same all squished in together with little matching gardens.”

“What was Muggle school like?” Ronnie asked, becoming even more interested.

“Lousy. Mostly because of my cousin. Biggest and meanest kid in the school, and he hates, me so naturally everyone else did too.”

Ronnie scowled at this. Indeed, Harriet was quite sure Ronnie was contemplating how to reach all the way back to London and punch Dudley in the face. Harriet found herself amused that once again she was seeing herself being the one answering more questions than asking.

“Not sure what you want to know about Muggles so much for…” Harriet said, amused.

Ronnie shrugged and blushed. “Oh, Dad likes them. Okay, that’s an understatement; he loves them. Guess in small ways it’s caught on. Dad likes their gizmos and how they make things work without magic.”

Harriet nodded and smiled. “Ah okay, and here I am wondering how magical people possibly do anything without stuff like electricity!”

They giggled a little at this before the moment was interrupted as the compartment door slid open, and a kind-faced witch peered in smiling.

“Care for something from the cart, my dears?” she asked.

Harriet, who hadn’t eaten all day, and now had a pocket full of coins, nearly sprang to her feet. Ronnie grimaced, looking at the bag of sandwiches her mother had given her, sitting, until then, forgotten beside her.

“I’m good…” she muttered in an ever-suffering voice.

Harriet had never been able to buy things like candy and snacks at the Dursleys. She had never had a friend to share anything with, either. Her pocket jingling, she stepped into the corridor to look at the cart.

Her jaw fell open at the spectacle. The cart was overflowing, though not with the usual treats Harriet had to force herself not to stare at when Aunt Petunia took her to the grocers. Instead, it was laden with sweets like Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans, Cauldron Cakes, Chocolate Frogs, and Pumpkin Pasties.

Unable to choose, Harriet just took a bit of everything, paid the witch, and turned back into the compartment. Ronnie’s eyes goggled at the sight of all the sweets.

“A bit peckish, maybe?” Ronnie asked, sounding amused.

“I’m famished,” Harriet replied as she dumped the food onto the seat. She picked up one of the Pumpkin Pasties and tore open the wrapper before taking a large bite. Ronnie meanwhile had opened the bag of sandwiches and grimaced again.

“All dry already…”

“Here, have a pasty then!” Harriet beamed handing one over to Ronnie.

Ronnie blushed brightly. “Oh, no that’s alright.”

“Oh please, take one. I’ve… well… I’ve never had anyone to share anything with before, or, anything to share really.”

Ronnie looked as though she was still inclined to refuse, but her stomach won out, and she relented. Before long they were laughing and chatting as they tried everything. As they talked, Harriet felt warmer and happier than she'd ever felt in her life, and as she looked at the tall red-headed girl sitting across from her, Harriet could not help but realise that she had, without even trying, just made the first real friend in her life.

The snacks were as fun to investigate as they were to eat. Harriet was relieved to discover the chocolate frogs were not in fact real frogs, and she had a lot of fun looking through the cards that came with the frogs, which Ronnie said were collectable. Her first was the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, who gave Harriet a considerable shock by walking out of his picture on the card and back again a few minutes later. It amused Harriet that Ronnie was just as amazed when Harriet told her that in non-magical pictures the subjects didn’t move at all.

The most fun, however, was the Every Flavour Beans, which quickly turned into a game of dare, Harriet and Ronnie daring each other to try different coloured beans to see what their flavour was.

Ronnie was now explaining the rules of Quidditch and all about her favourite team when the door to their compartment opened again, and a boy about their age walked in. He looked as though he’d been crying and didn’t seem to see them clearly at first through his watery eyes.

“Excuse me, but have any of you seen a to—”

The boy paused after wiping his eyes, and he seemed to finally register he was in a compartment with two girls, at which point his face immediately went scarlet, and he bolted from the compartment, not even shutting the door behind him. Harriet and Ronnie stared after him, utterly bewildered.

“Well, that was…”

“Different,” concluded Harriet with a nod. “I wonder who, or what he’s looking for…?”

“No idea,” said Ronnie with a shrug before getting up and sliding the compartment door shut again. She had barely sat back down when the compartment door flung open again, and another girl stepped in with the round-faced boy from a minute ago in tow behind her. She was about Harriet’s height but had thick, bushy brown hair, brown eyes, her two front teeth were somewhat more prominent than the others, and she had already put on her robes.

“Have either of you two seen a toad anywhere? Neville here has lost one,” the new girl asked. Her tone was self-important and impatient, but not snooty.

“Oh, is that what you were looking for?” Harriet asked, smiling at Neville while trying to sound polite, though he looked as though he wanted to fall through the floor of the train and disappear forever.

“A toad…? Why would you want to find it if it’s lost?” Ronnie asked.

Harriet shot a sideways look at Ronnie, having thought the question a bit rude given how upset Neville looked but was surprised to see the innocent look on Ronnie’s face. _Well, I have my first best friend anyway_ , she thought, _tactless, but my friend._

Harriet looked and saw the new girl had a somewhat disapproving look on her face as well.

"Well, I was only trying to help him, and I was only asking if you had seen one, not your opinion of toads altogether,” she said, her eyes finding Scabbers. “Though I see you have a rat, which is every bit as out of vogue, so I’m not really sure you have all that much room to talk.”

Ronnie’s ears went pink, and she looked a little mollified. “Sorry,” she muttered.

The new girl turned back to Harriet. “I’m Hermione Granger. You must be Harriet Potter; I see your scar.”

“Er—I—yeah,” Harriet said, feeling a bit of an ever-suffering tone in her voice as she brushed her bangs back down to cover the scar.

“I’ve read all about you of course,” the girl named Hermione went on. “You were in a few of the extra books I got in Diagon Alley: _Modern Magical History_ , _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ , _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_ …”

“I am?” Harriet asked in astonishment.

“Oh, of course!” Hermione exclaimed. “How could you not be? So you were brought up by Muggles? My parents are Muggles. I didn’t know anyone in my family was magic. Pretty much none of them are, except for one of my cousins in France, though I’ve never really seen her that much.

“She’s going to Beauxbatons, which wouldn’t have been so bad to go to, or to Rathlin—though Rathlin’s really exclusive of course, and you have to have attended the primary school there to be eligible for the academy—but for all-out magical schools none of them come close to Hogwarts, especially under Professor Dumbledore. He’s supposed to be the greatest Wizard of our age, maybe of all time, after all. And he was a Gryffindor too which is the house I hope I get, though Ravenclaw wouldn’t be so bad. Anyway, we’d better go off and find your toad, Neville.”

Without another word or even a glance back, Hermione turned and dragged Neville back out of the compartment after her. Harriet and Ronnie stared after them for a moment.

“Well… she was certainly…”

“Spirited.” Harriet finished for Ronnie, trying to be polite.

“Er, yeah, that’s the word for it,” Ronnie said though Harriet was more than reasonably sure that was not the word she was going to use. Harriet looked out the window again. The train was starting to move up some mountains, and she could just see the tracks of the train behind them as they rounded a corner. It reminded Harriet of something.

“So, your brother Charlie, you said he works with dragons?”

“Oh yeah, he’s mental about them. Not that I blame him I mean they are fascinating aren’t they?” Ronnie asked with a shrug.

Harriet shrugged in return. “I suppose,” she replied sheepishly. “It’s just, I mean growing up I never heard about dragons all that much. Muggles think they’re just out of fairy stories. Now . I feel like I’ve heard about them more in the—like—two days or so I’ve spent with other witches and wizards than I have my whole life! The school’s game-keeper, Hagrid, who took me to Diagon Alley, said they had them at Gringotts even and how much he wanted one as a pet.”

At the last comment, Ronnie choked a little on the chocolate frog she had just tried to swallow. “‘Wanted one as a pet?’ He’s mental! Dragons are dangerous! They’re terrifying, dirty-great lizards with spines and great big fangs and claws that fly and breathe fire!”

Harriet shrugged. “Well, Hagrid himself is about twice as tall as a normal person so if anyone could it looks like he could be the one to handle one.”

Ronnie shook her head still in disbelief. She glowered at the door as it slid open yet again. But this time, it was not the round-faced boy Neville or the bushy-haired Hermione. This boy was thin and pale-skinned, with nearly white, blonde hair. Harriet had met this boy before, though she did not know his name. She met him in Diagon Alley in the robe-fitting shop. It was him who told Harriet that people from non-magical families shouldn’t come to Hogwarts. She had disliked him from the start.

This time he had two other boys with him. And instead of bored disinterest, he was looking at Harriet with almost hungry curiosity.

“So, you’re her are you? Harriet Potter…?” Draco Malfoy muttered in a way that Harriet wasn’t exactly sure if he was asking her or appraising her.

“Yes, yes I am,” Harriet said.

If she hadn’t liked Malfoy’s tone and look much back in Madame Malkin’s, she definitely didn’t like it now. She watched the boy’s eyes move up to her forehead, squinting trying to see the scar through her fringe which was still covering it, before moving down over the rest of her too. The feeling made her shiver.

“Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” The boy said extending a hand.

Harriet didn’t take it. She gave Ronnie a sideways glance and noted the look of distaste on her face as she appraised Malfoy and the other two boys.

“And who’re these two gorillas?” Ronnie asked gruffly. Malfoy turned his eyes to her.

“This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle,” said Malfoy dismissively as he turned his scrutinising face to Ronnie. “And you are…?”

“Weasley,” Ronnie declared glaring. “Ronnie Weasley.”

“Weasley,” Malfoy said, saying the name with much the same expression Ronnie had worn when she ate a sprout Every Flavour Bean earlier. “So the family finally produced something other than a boy did it? Well at least that’ll help save on food bills and housework then won’t it?” Malfoy said lazily.

Ronnie’s face went red with mingled rage and shock, and Harriet was quite sure hers had gone a similar shade.

“You see, Potter—if that is who you are—there are good wizarding families, and bad ones. Good wizarding families, like mine, have a proper pride in their lineage and place in the world. Other wizarding families, however…” Malfoy muttered the last part under his breath and shot a sideways glance at Ronnie. Harriet felt her temper breaking.

“I think I can tell who ‘good’ and ‘bad’ wizards are all on my own,” she said with a slight snarl that wiped the smirk off Malfoy’s face entirely.

“You’d better watch that temper, it can get you into trouble, you know? Potter was a pure-blood family until your mother. You should have your proper pride too unless your mother truly did pollute that. Or maybe you aren't Potter after all? Crabbe, Goyle, check her for her scar," Malfoy ordered.

Crabbe and Goyle stepped forward, and Harriet and Ronnie leapt to their feet. Harriet and Ronnie raised their fists, but at that moment Crabbe’s right knee buckled and he toppled to the floor with a crash. He rolled over, stupidly looking towards the door. The rest spun around as well.

In the doorway, Harriet could see two more boys. They were both about the same height as Malfoy, but one had brownish-red hair and brown eyes, while the other had long, dark brown hair, tied back in a ponytail, and blue eyes. The brown-eyed one was putting some of his weight back on a club-headed walking stick with which he had apparently just jabbed Crabbe in the back of the knee.

Both boys were glaring at Malfoy. Harriet saw Crabbe get back to his feet and take a step towards the boy with the stick, but Malfoy held out a hand to stay him. As Harriet watched, she saw Crabbe’s eyes move to the other boy’s face, the stick, and his leg, and an inexplicable smirk spread across his otherwise gormless face.

“So,” said the blue-eyed boy with a distinct Scottish accent. “Think it’s alright forcing your will on young lassies eh?” he growled.

“Aye,” said the other boy, his Irish accent contrasting to his companion’s. “It’s a bit more gentlemanly to ask a lady when you have a request, and if she turns you down, it’s just as gentlemanly to honour it.”

Malfoy looked at the two appraisingly, then back at Harriet and Ronnie, who had both drawn their wands rather than their fists. Outnumbered now, he seemed to think better of the situation.

“Crabbe, Goyle, come. This place stinks of blood traitors and Muggle-lovers now…” he muttered, and they slouched off, Crabbe continuing to smirk at the boy with the walking stick as he made his way out, who glared back.

The blue-eyed boy turned to Harriet and Ronnie.

“You two okay?” he asked concerned.

Harriet opened her mouth to reply when Ronnie cut in. “We didn’t need your help, we’re not helpless little girls,” she barked, shortly. Harriet looked at her aghast as the boy took a step back, looking wounded.

“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to offend, we were just walking down the hall and heard what Malfoy was saying, it had nothing to do with you two being girls, honest.”

“Aye, woulda done just the same had ye been lads, too,” said the boy with the stick.

Ronnie did look a little abashed.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean… sorry,” she muttered and sat down.

The two boys seemed to collect themselves and smiled again.

“It’s alright,” the blue-eyed boy said again. “No harm was done, yeah? I’m Scott, Scott McIntyre,” he said and held out a hand to Ronnie who shook it.

“Aye, and I’m Kieran O’Brien,” the other said giving an awkward bow.

“So, what did Malfoy mean by ‘Blood trait—’” Harriet started to ask before being cut off by the bushy-haired Hermione re-entering the now quite cramped compartment.

“What have you all been doing? You haven’t been starting fights, have you? You're all going to be in trouble before we even start! Er, I’m Hermione Granger by the way,” she said to Kieran and Scott who smiled and introduced themselves to her in return.

“And, er, and I’m Harriet,” Harriet piped up, and the two boys looked at her and nodded.

“Aye, we kinda figured that overhearing Malfoy,” the boy named Kieran said.

“Oh, right,” Harriet said.

“Is that a shillelagh?” Hermione asked looking at Kieran’s walking stick.

Kieran smiled in an impressed way. “That it is,” he said holding it out to her. She took it looking at it with scrutiny.

“Is it magical?” she asked curiously.

“Aye, Scott cousin made it fer me this summer. I’d outgrown my last walking stick. I can make a Protego charm with it, and some others, but I’m not quite up to it yet. It’ll also grow with me as I do, and repels dirt and all sorts!” Kieran went on excitedly, while Scott looked at it with a little pride. “I got me wand there too; it reacted to me. It’s brother of Scott’s wand too.”

"Oh, are your family wand makers?" Hermione asked Scott, her eyes bright with interest.

Scott smiled. “Yeah, but we’ve never been flash about it like Ollivander is. It’s just a family thing for us.”

“So, what is a shilaylee whatsit, and why do you need it anyway?” Ronnie asked bluntly.

Kieran chuckled. “It’s a shillelagh; ancient Irish walking stick, and weapon, of sorts. And I need it cuz I got me a bum leg,” Kieran explained patting his leg.

“I had thought it looked club-like, yeah,” Ronnie said.

Hermione piped up again. “Well fascinating as this all is, I’ve just spoken to the driver, and we’re going to be there soon. You’d all better get changed!” she reiterated, and Harriet watched Ronnie give an eye roll out of the corner of her eye as Hermione turned and left the compartment again, looking flustered. Scott and Kieran looked after her slightly bemused.

“Well, uh, it was nice meeting you Harriet, Ronnie,” said Scott politely.

“Aye, we’ll see you around, yeah? Maybe even be in the same house?” Kieran said with a hopeful tone.

“Well, they seemed nice,” Harriet said after the two boys left.

“Yeah, nice blokes,” Ronnie said in agreement. “So, you’d already met Malfoy?”

“Yeah, in Diagon Alley; going on about how people from Muggle families shouldn’t be allowed in Hogwarts.”

Ronnie glowered. “I’ve heard about his family from Dad; long history of dark wizards, there. He’ll be in Slytherin; I’ll bet you a thousand galleons. Well, if I follow my family lineage at least I won’t be in the same house with him…”

“What house is your family, er, ‘lineage’?” Harriet asked as she drew her robes from her trunk.

“Gryffindor,” Ronnie answered in a bored voice. “Mum and Dad were, Bill was, Charlie was, Percy, Fred and George are… you get the idea. Anyway, I’m pretty sure it’s where I’ll end up but, honestly, even Hufflepuff I wouldn’t mind compared to Slytherin. It’s a pretty nice house, to be honest; if you listen to the actual description of what students in Hufflepuff are like."

“Heh, that’s what Hagrid said,” Harriet said.

Having Ronnie agree with someone as kind-hearted as Hagrid had the effect of cheering Harriet up considerably. Ronnie’s apparent quick temper had made her a little worried, but then she reminded herself that perhaps it was more of a chip on her shoulders than outright being easy to anger. It was probably something her brothers, who seemed to have a penchant for teasing her, had played more than one hand in as well.

They jumped as a loud, disembodied voice announced the train would be arriving in five minutes. They hurriedly packed away the remainder of the snacks, Ronnie stuffed Scabbers back in her pocket, and they joined the other students in the corridor as the train finally came to a halt.

Harriet felt as though her whole body had gone numb with nervousness. Ronnie was looking a little green too. They lurched forward as they finally filed off the train. It was dark already, something she hadn’t noticed inside the brightly lit train, but now the night seemed to weigh in on her from all directions.

She jumped again when a loud, though friendly, voice started calling for the first years. She and Ronnie made their way over to the voice and Harriet beamed seeing Hagrid’s grinning, hairy face as he waved to her. She returned it, drawing many rather impressed looks from the other first-years around her who naturally found Hagrid rather imposing (much as she had when first meeting him) before he turned and called for them all to follow him.

They followed him warily, going down a steep, winding path. Then the dark trees on either side of them broke, and they saw a lake. A wave of gasps and “oohs” went through the group, as they all looked up and saw, across the lake from them, its many windows blazing in the night, a castle. So that’s Hogwarts, Harriet thought to herself.

It was more than she had ever imagined. Ronnie’s description had done it no justice. It should have looked foreboding, she reminded herself, but it didn’t. Instead, it filled her with a sense of excitement, a sense of adventure, and an odd sense of belonging. _I think I’m going to like it here_ … she thought to herself as they approached the lake.

Hagrid shepherded them down to the edge of the lake where a horde of boats was lined up and waiting. She and Ronnie climbed into one and to Ronnie’s annoyance so did Hermione and the boy Neville who’d lost his toad. Neville was still sniffling and looking thoroughly miserable. Harriet waved to Kieran and Scott who were in the boat next to theirs. With a shout, Hagrid had them off, the vessels seeming to propel themselves after his boat, of which he was the only occupant.

Harriet grew fainter and fainter as the boats approached the shore. After anticipating the start of the school year for the whole month of August, and despite her initial excitement at finally seeing the castle, Harriet wasn’t sure she was quite ready for this. She tilted her head back to keep the school in view as they made it to the cliff before Hagrid called for them all to get down as they sailed underneath low hanging rocks and ivy, into a large tunnel. It took them to a small pool where they parked the boats and climbed got out.

“Heyup, someone lose a toad?” Hagrid called curiously. Neville exclaimed in joy and ran forward, picking up the toad.

“It’s Trevor!” he cried and stuck the toad into his pocket as Hagrid smiled down at him and turned with his lamp and lead them up another passageway onto the grounds of the castle itself. They crossed the grounds and came to a broad set of stone stairs. As Hagrid climbed them and reached the doors, he lifted his giant fist and pounded on the door once, twice, three times. In an instant, the high doors finally swung open and filled the stairway with light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Scott McIntyre and Kieran O'Brien belong to: night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	3. Songs, Hats, Sortings, and Houses

“There is no true key to knowing one’s self. There is no map to tell you who you are or where you are going in life. Instead, you must make it yourself. You must look at who you feel you are, how others perceive you, and what your experiences in life have been. Be aware of what was and what is and that will help you discover what will be.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet trembled a little as the giant doors opened, feeling prepared to see anything come bursting through them. She felt like even a dragon wouldn’t have surprised her anymore. Fortunately, it wasn’t a dragon. Instead, it was one of the more austere looking people Harriet had ever seen in her life.

The woman who greeted them was tall, with raven-hair done-up in a bun and bright robes of emerald-green. She had square glasses, perched high on the bridge of her nose that glinted in the light of Hagrid’s lamp. Her eyes scanned them all so imperiously that she silenced the entire group of whispering first-years in a way that Harriet would have never thought possible.

“Here you are Professor McGonagall, ma’am, all our new firs’ years safe and sound,” Hagrid said with a bow that given his height did not come off as much of a bow.

The woman named Professor McGonagall gave him a curt nod of thanks. “Thank you very much, Hagrid. Alright everyone, please follow me.”

Professor McGonagall turned and walked back into the school. The large cluster of first-years began to move forward, and as she neared the door, Harriet found her gaze being pulled higher and higher until she finally crossed the threshold. She didn’t know why, but once she finally took that first step into the school, she felt a slight chill run down her spine. It wasn’t a scary feeling, more like she had reached a point of no return as if for all the strange and wondrous things she had seen and done since she learned she was a witch, this was finally the moment where indeed nothing in her life would ever be the same again.

She gaped, looking around as they entered the castle's giant entrance hall. It could have housed at least several elephants, Harriet thought. There were torches all along the walls, and magnificent tapestries hanging down from a ceiling that was so tall it was indistinct in the dim light. Statues and suits of armour stood in every little niche along the walls, and it all led to a giant set of marble stairs that Harriet assumed led up into the rest of the castle.

As they followed Professor McGonagall into the entrance hall, Harriet could hear many, loud voices coming from another considerable door to the right. She looked at the set of significant oak doors, expecting Professor McGonagall to lead her and the other first-years through them. Instead, Professor McGonagall steered them into a smaller chamber beside the doors. After they were all herded into the room and crammed together uncomfortably, Professor McGonagall turned and addressed them.

“Welcome all of you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The more perceptive of you will have noted that I am Professor Minerva McGonagall, Deputy-Headmistress.”

“Oh! I did Professor!” squeaked an excited voice.

Harriet looked around to see Hermione with her hand in the air, looking anxious. Professor McGonagall blinked slightly, taken aback at this display of enthusiasm but didn’t respond otherwise, except to turn back to address the students once more.

“In a few minutes, you will be shown into the Great Hall where you will be sorted into your houses. This ceremony is not merely tradition, but is critical to your life at Hogwarts, as your houses will be your homes and nearly your family while you are here at Hogwarts.

“You will attend your classes with the other students of your year from your house, you will sleep every night in your house dormitories, and you will no doubt waste many of your precious few hours of free time that should be spent on homework playing games and socialising in your house common rooms.

“The four houses are, in alphabetical order: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. I will add that all houses have produced their fair share of great and notable witches and wizards, and no house is any greater than any other.”

At these words, Harriet heard a soft snort behind her, and she and several others turned their heads to see Malfoy looking up at Professor McGonagall with disbelief written all over his face. His smug look vanished however when she turned her imperious gaze to him with a look of utter disapproval.

“Now that all interruptions are over, also while you are in your house, you will have the opportunity to win or lose points for your house. Points are awarded for good behaviour and excellent performance in lessons, and taken away for poor behaviour, and are only granted or removed by staff. Please note that school prefects and the Head Boy and Girl on the other hand while unable to remove or give points, can give out detentions and other punishments. At the end of the school year, the house that has earned the most points will win the House Cup, the highest award for a house in the school. So, I hope you will all apply yourselves thoroughly while you are in attendance and do credit to whichever house you are sorted.

“I will now go and prepare the Great Hall for your entrance. Please take these remaining few minutes to straighten yourselves out as best you can, ensuring you all look your best when you present yourselves before the school to be sorted.”

She said this last part somewhat stiffly, and her keen eyes darted about, landing notably on Neville whose robes had been spun around sideways in the jostling of getting into the room, and Ronnie who still had a smudge of dirt on her nose.

Harriet quickly started combing her fingers through her hair frantically, and Ronnie started rubbing her nose vigorously before Professor McGonagall asked them all to remain quiet until she returned and entered the noisy hall, leaving them alone. Harriet swallowed looking around.

“So, does anyone know how we are sorted into houses?”

Ronnie shrugged. “Notta clue. Not even Charlie would ever tell me how. It’s all secret by ‘tradition’ and all that. Fred and George tried to tell me it was some test or other. Fred kept trying to tell me they had to wrestle a troll but like I’d believe anything he’d say about it,” Ronnie said with an air of defiance, but Harriet noticed how Ronnie seemed somewhat paler than she had on the train.

“You mean you don’t know…?” drawled the now easily recognisable voice of Draco Malfoy behind them. “I mean of course someone dragged up by Muggles like Potter wouldn’t know, but you, Weasley? I would think you would know enough about our ways, even with your Muggle-loving father…”

“Oh shove off, ya creep,” a boy with a thick Irish accent muttered.

Harriet looked around, expecting to see Kieran again but it was another boy, who had short, sandy-brown hair and blue eyes. A tall black boy next to him nodded in agreement.

“Getting uppity are we?” Malfoy muttered with a smirk and somehow from nowhere, which was an accomplishment for them, Crabbe and Goyle appeared at Malfoy’s shoulders, cracking their knuckles menacingly. The two other boys merely raised their eyebrows, but before Crabbe, Goyle, or anyone could do anything more, several gasps and squeals sounded off from the back of the room. At the sound, Harriet looked back and squeaked in shock.

Nearly twenty pearly-white figures had just appeared straight out of the wall behind them. They were translucent and of all shapes and sizes. They all seemed to be talking to each other though Harriet couldn’t make out what they were saying over all the noise of the other surprised students who were trying to part before the oncoming figures. Remembering something Ronnie had said on the train, Harriet guessed that these were the school ghosts.

One of them took notice of the first-years as he floated past and paused long enough to introduce himself. He was tall and dressed in ancient clothes, looking somewhat like pictures Harriet had seen of Shakespeare in her school books.

“Oh, hello there! Waiting to be sorted are we?”

Harriet looked around the room with the other students before they all nodded at the ghost, who smiled at them warmly.

“Wonderful! I’m Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, the house ghost of Gryffindor House. Hope to see plenty of you there!” he said, and without another word, he disappeared after the other ghosts through the wall with the door that Professor McGonagall had left through. Harriet and Ronnie both looked at each other and gave little shudders.

“Well, that was pretty cool… creepy, but cool,” Ronnie muttered, and Harriet nodded in agreement. Finally, the door opened again, and Professor McGonagall re-entered the little room.

“The ceremony is ready, form a line please and slowly make your way into the Great Hall.”

Harriet felt rooted to her spot, but somehow she managed to make her way into line behind the sandy-haired boy who had talked back to Malfoy and in front of Ronnie. They filed out after Professor McGonagall, and Harriet gasped again as her eyes took in the Great Hall.

It was perhaps the most fantastic room Harriet had ever seen. It was even more massive than the Entrance Hall, with four long tables filled with other students in robes. Banners of scarlet and gold, canary yellow and black, blue and bronze, and green and silver, hung over the tables. Harriet assumed these were the colours of each house, with one house per table. At the head of the room was another long table, raised above the others, with a row of adults. Harriet guessed these were the teachers.

She looked up higher and realised floating candles lighted the entire room. Even higher, Harriet’s eyes widened as the room appeared to have no ceiling, just the inky night sky.

“Is that…?” she whispered under her breath, trailing off as she heard Hermione, a couple of people in front of her whispering to the sandy-haired boy about how it wasn’t the sky, merely a charm that made it look that way. Harriet bit her lip looking at it again. There was more to magic than simple tricks like pulling rabbits out of hats or pulling coins from behind people’s ears.

She snapped her attention back to the rest of the room as Professor McGonagall stepped in front of them, carrying a stool and an ancient looking hat. It looked as though it had been torn apart several times and sewn and patched back together, but not before being tossed into several mud holes.

Professor McGonagall set down the stool and placed the hat upon it. Harriet was just on the verge of thinking that maybe they would, in fact, have to do something like pull a rabbit out of it when the hat unmistakably began to sing. Harriet could tell it was the hat singing, not because the sound was coming directly from it, but the hat itself was moving, and a rip near the brim had opened into what could only be described as a mouth.

 

_“Oh, you may not think I’m pretty,_

_But don’t judge on what you see,_

_I’ll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There’s nothing hidden in your head,_

_The Sorting Hat can’t see,_

_So try me on, and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you’ve a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You’ll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don’t be afraid!_

_And don’t get in a flap!_

_You’re in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I’m a Thinking Cap!”_

 

A sharp wave of applause shook the hall as the hat finished singing. It took unmistakable bows to each table (all of whom were giving it a standing ovation) before falling silent.

Harriet felt her whole body unravelling from her tension and worry. All they had to do was put the hat on to be sorted! Harriet wasn’t sure she fit any of the hat’s descriptions, but it was at least more manageable than trying a spell she’d never learned or practised before or wrestling a troll. Beside her, Ronnie seemed to agree as she heaved a sigh of relief.

“I knew Fred was putting me on,” Ronnie murmured under her breath. “I am punching him so hard when we—”

Ronnie was cut off as Professor McGonagall cleared her throat for silence and pulled out a large scroll.

“I shall read off the names. When your name is called, please take a seat on the stool and put on the hat. The hat will announce what house you are in, and once done please replace the hat on the stool and take your seat at your new house table.”

Professor McGonagall surveyed them all one more time before she called the first name. “Abbot, Hannah.”

As Harriet watched, a blonde girl went up to the stool. She put on the hat, and after a brief pause the hat cheerfully shouted: “Hufflepuff!”

The table under the canary yellow and black banners burst into applause as Hannah went and joined them. After Hannah, the next girl, Susan Bones, was also a Hufflepuff, though Terry Boot became a Ravenclaw. Finally, Harriet watched a girl named Lavender Brown become the first Gryffindor. The Gryffindors seemed to give the loudest cheers of all, and Fred and George even cat-called a little as Lavender made her way over.

Harriet didn’t know why, but Gryffindor table looked a much more welcoming table than the others. Despite not feeling chivalrous or brave or any of the rest of what the Sorting Hat had said about Gryffindors, she wanted to be a part of that table.

“Bulstrode, Millicent!”

Professor McGonagall’s voice snapped her back to the present again. Millicent Bulstrode turned out to be as surly looking as her name sounded, and sure enough, she became a Slytherin. As she looked at that table, Harriet couldn’t help but feel they did not look like her type of people at all. Had he been a wizard, Dudley probably would have fit right in. That was not the table she wanted to join, even without all she had heard from Hagrid about what Slytherins were like, and how Voldemort had been one.

"Fanfarró, Pixie!”

Harriet raised her eyebrows a little at the odd name, though the girl who strode forward was close to Ronnie in height, with platinum blonde hair and seemed from first glance something like a female Malfoy, brimming with smug confidence. Indeed, without a moment’s hesitation, the Sorting Hat called “Slytherin!” and Pixie made her way over to them, beaming.

 _Well, okay some of them are pretty, but still unpleasant_ , Harriet thought as she watched Pixie go.

“Finnigan, Seamus!” McGonagall called now, and the boy in front of Harriet who had stood up to Malfoy in the side room strode towards the stool. Seamus took much longer than most. It was nearly a minute before the Hat finally sorted him into Gryffindor.

The next girl seemed to raise the teachers' interest. Dora Flamel seemed slightly more pleasant than Pixie had been. Her smile seemed warmer though after a couple of minutes the Sorting Hat sent her off to the Slytherin table as well. The staff continued to mutter about her as she went.

Dora sat at the end of the table and promptly ignored the other students who were cheering her as she looked back at the other first-years yet to be sorted. Harriet sighed, deciding it would probably be better if she made no assumptions about anyone in this crazy new world. Every time she made any generalisations she was immediately proven wrong.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione now went forward, trembling with excitement as she took the hat from Professor McGonagall and forced it down on her head herself. This time the hat took even longer. Stealing a glance at her watch, Harriet noted it took nearly four minutes for the hat to send her off to Gryffindor.

It was this that finally put the first significant worries in Harriet’s head. What if the hat didn’t sort her into a house? What if the hat declared she wasn’t worthy of any house or being at Hogwarts at all and she had to go back home?

“Itoh, Tomomi,” became a Ravenclaw, and Harriet couldn’t help but notice many of the boys’ eyes following her as well.

The boy named Neville was called forward now. He tripped on his way to the stool, and he took at least a couple minutes before he was sent to Gryffindor. On the way to the Gryffindor table, Neville forgot to take off the Sorting Hat, only noticing it when the Hat itself cried out, and Neville ashamedly returned it to the stool.

After Neville, "Makeda, Atsuko" became a Ravenclaw. At this pronouncement, on top of the regular cheering from the Ravenclaws, came a squeal of delight and Tomomi Itoh ran up. She met Atsuko halfway in an enthusiastic hug before two went back to the table, talking rapidly and excitedly to each other in Japanese.

“Do foreign students often come here?” Harriet whispered to Ronnie curiously. Ronnie shrugged.

“Not that I’ve heard of,” Ronnie whispered back, “does seem like there’s a little more than one would expect though, yeah.”

Now, Draco Malfoy was called. He walked forward with a confident swagger that made Harriet feel vaguely nauseous, though the Sorting Hat had barely even brushed his hair before it cried out: “Slytherin!”

Harriet glared at the back of Malfoy’s shiny haired head as he went to join Crabbe and Goyle at the Slytherin table before “Martinez, Isabella” was called.

Harriet felt her heart skip a little as this girl strode forward. She was stunning, and even before she got to the stool some boys, mostly second and third years, could distinctly be heard cat-calling. Harriet couldn’t help but notice that Fred and George were amongst them. Indeed, they looked as though they were crossing their fingers she would be in Gryffindor. Harriet felt her face burn a little with unexpected jealousy, remembering how they had tripped over each other trying to help her on the train.

“Hufflepuff!” the Sorting Hat cried out, and Isabella made her way over to the Hufflepuff table. She walked with a grace that reminded Harriet of ballerinas she had occasionally seen on television back in Privet Drive. Harriet couldn’t help but give an internal ‘hah!’ to Fred and George who looked slightly crestfallen.

Next came Scott McIntyre. As he stepped up to the stool, Harriet noticed that two or three of the professors whispered to each other as they watched him.

With a slight groan of disappointment, Harriet heard the Sorting Hat declare him a Ravenclaw with very little reluctance. Harriet watched Hagrid lean over and poke his elbow into a chair that Harriet had taken to be empty at first as if he was nudging someone invisible in the ribs. There was a clattering noise, and Hagrid jumped and reached down to lift a very short wizard back up off the floor, plunking him back down into the seat. The little professor was barely tall enough to be seen over the edge of the table, but Harriet could see he had an ever-suffering expression on his face.

Harriet looked back towards the Ravenclaw table and watched Scott sit down next to the two Japanese girls. He smiled at the one named Atsuko and Harriet watched her blush sheepishly, and Tomomi gave her friend a little nudge with her elbow. Harriet didn’t blame them; Scott was quite handsome.

Next came: “Miyazaki, Sae.” Harriet expected her to be sent to Ravenclaw too, but instead, she went to Slytherin. Sae gave Atsuko and Tomomi a sad, apologetic look as she made her way to the Slytherin table, and both of whom returned it though with slightly encouraging smiles on their faces.

Finally, Kieran O'Brien was called. Kieran made his way ahead with his walking stick and sat awkwardly on the stool with his stiff leg.

The hat again took perhaps a minute or so before “Gryffindor!” was its response, and though Harriet was glad to see at least Kieran in that house she wanted so badly to be in, she did feel a bit sad that the two obvious friends were being split up like that. Her feeling of disappointment for them was compounded by the sad little looks she saw them exchange as Kieran slowly made his way to the Gryffindor table.

Immediately after Kieran came a tall, thin but quite handsome boy named Jeremy Owen who became another Hufflepuff. Harriet swallowed now as more worries began running through her head.

She would be called soon. What if she tripped on her way to the stool? What if she was put in Slytherin and wound up being picked on all the time by Malfoy, who seemed to be Dudley all over again?

Pansy Parkinson became a Slytherin, and the two Indian twins, Padma and Parvati Patil, became a Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively, Harriet jumped when she heard Professor McGonagall finally call out: “Potter, Harriet.”

Her name at first was greeted with complete and utter silence. Then, all at once, more murmuring broke out everywhere. As she took a step forward, she felt her cheeks warm as she heard wolf-whistles and catcalls. She turned her head just enough to see it was Fred and George leading this, both of whom were nearly jumping up and down and chanted excitedly: “We want Potter! We want Potter!” Their chants went a long way towards making some of her feelings of her jealousy over Isabella melt away.

She sat on the stool, and Professor McGonagall put the hat on her head. At first, she only saw darkness as it slid over her eyes before a small voice said:

“ _Interesting… oh yes, this is a fascinating case indeed. So much is here. But where should I put you…? There’s strength in here young lady, oh yes, and courage, and talent_!” the Hat’s voice came as if it was just a soft whisper in her ear, but it seemed nearly bubbling with excitement, rather like Mr Ollivander had been when Harriet had been trying wands in his shop. “ _You’re brimming with it… but where would it go best…? The intelligence…? Ravenclaw, perhaps? No… no, no, is courage your most prominent feature? Yes, it shines very strongly, but you also want to prove yourself, and are willing to work hard to get what you desire…_ ”

 _Gryffindor_! Harriet thought firmly. _Please, Gryffindor! Not Slytherin, Gryffindor!_

_“Gryffindor, eh? Are you—”_

_Yes! Any house but Slytherin, but if it has to be one please Gryffindor!_

_“‘Any house but Slytherin?’ You could achieve much greatness in Slytherin house, you know? Many great witches and—”_

_No, Gryffindor! Please!_

_“Well, if you are so insistent…”_ the Hat whispered disappointed, _“Gryffindor!”_

The Hat shouted the last word and instantly the Gryffindor table erupted in noise. Harriet barely heard it however as she took off the hat and made her way on shaky legs to join them all. Ronnie’s older brother, Percy, got up and shook Harriet’s hand while Fred and George were cheering themselves hoarse with excitement.

Harriet sat down but jumped as she realised she’d sat across from the same ghost who had spoken to them before, Sir Nicholas. Much to Harriet’s displeasure, he patted her hand in a complimentary way which made her entire arm go numb with cold.

Shivering a little, Harriet returned her attention to the sorting.

The tall, black boy who had talked back to Malfoy was named Dean Thomas, and he also became a Gryffindor. He sat down next to the ghost across from Harriet and gave her a little wink and Harriet felt her cheeks flush again.

Harriet looked back to the other first-years again eagerly, covering her mouth with her hands anxiously, knowing that Ronnie would be coming up soon.

Ronnie still looked a little green, and so did a boy standing beside her.

“Van Der Lakk, Marcus" Professor McGonagall called.

The greenish boy next to Ronnie stepped forward. He sat on the stool and screwed up his face nervously as Professor McGonagall set the Sorting Hat down on his head.

He took a long time as well. Harriet could see his mouth moving as though he was arguing with himself, though Harriet knew he was arguing with the Hat. Finally, even though the boy wasn’t done with his mutterings, the Hat bellowed out "Gryffindor!" 

Marcus got back to his feet after taking off the hat and slowly made his way over to the Gryffindor table, who welcomed him with more cheers. He sat next to Dean and Seamus, and Harriet gave him a welcoming smile that he returned, looking a bit less green.

Harriet spun her head back to the stool and the Hat, watching anxiously, absent-mindedly biting her lip, knowing Ronnie would be next. Finally, Professor McGonagall lifted the parchment again and called: “Weasley, Ronald.”

Harriet stared blankly, and the rest of the hall fell silent too. Professor McGonagall even looked a little taken aback as slowly, Ronnie took sheepish steps towards the stool, and a wave of sniggers broke over the hall of students. However, the sniggering died almost instantly as Harriet heard a deep voice clear its throat and looked up at the staff table where she saw that Professor Dumbledore, who she recognised from her chocolate frog card, was looking out over the students with a disapproving gaze. Indeed, even though Harriet had not been one of the people giggling, Harriet felt a little ashamed too.

Now she knew that Ronnie’s brother had indeed been about to call her Ronald, which was quite cruel now she thought about it, but she felt her sense of connection to Ronnie grow a little stronger. Ronnie gave the hall of students one little, red-faced glare before muttering, “It’s Ronnie,” just loud enough for everyone to hear before the Sorting Hat was placed down on her head. Harriet was slightly impressed at how Ronnie had declared that so boldly to the room, and so was little surprised when the Sorting Hat loudly declared, “Gryffindor!”

Ronnie made her way over to the table; sitting next to Harriet as the Gryffindors cheered her, Harriet had been cheering her loudest and gave Ronnie a welcoming hug as she sat down. Ronnie blushed as she returned the hug and blushed more as Fred and George chanted loudly:

“Roooon-nie! Roooon-nie! Roooon-nie!” They chanted it with such affection that Harriet felt her displeasure at them melt away.

Finally, after Blaise Zabini went to Slytherin, Professor Dumbledore rose to his feet. Silence fell over the Great Hall at once. Despite Professor Dumbledore’s earlier stern look over the laughter at Ronnie’s real name, Harriet felt a wave of warmth fill her seeing the smile that the tall and ancient looking man now wore. It was as though not a single thing in the world could have made him happier than to be there at that moment greeting them.

“Welcome! While many of the smiling new faces looking at me are expecting a speech, the older faces with grumbling stomachs are far greater in number, and thus their obvious desire for a feast wins out over any inspirational words I may feebly attempt to muster. So instead, I shall leave you with these simple thoughts: Nitwit, blubber, oddment, tweak!”

Professor Dumbledore smiled and bowed to the students who all applauded him, though Harriet noted very little enthusiasm came from the Slytherin table before he finally sat back down.

Harriet turned to Ronnie’s older brother, Percy, who was sitting on the other side of her from Ronnie.

"He's a little… odd… isn't he?" she asked quietly, though she secretly felt a little reverence for the old man for reasons she couldn't place. Percy nodded seriously.

"Well naturally, who ever heard of a plain genius after all? You have to be a bit odd, even mad to reach a level of genius such as Dumbledore's," Percy said with another serious nod.

There was a groaning noise, and Harriet turned to look at the doors expecting to see chefs entering with food. Instead, she nearly jumped out of her seat as she took in the table that, once empty, now stood full of more food than she had ever seen in her entire life.

Her stomach groaned looking at it all. She had never been allowed to eat as much as she wanted of whatever she wanted before. Despite all the sweets she and Ronnie had eaten on the train, Harriet couldn’t wait to fill her plate with as much as she could. She filled it with a roast chicken breast and thigh, with peas and carrots and started eating.

Ronnie beside her had taken a bit of everything, even some peppermint humbugs. The four new first-year boys sitting across from them, Dean, Seamus, Marcus and Kieran, gave Ronnie some raised eyebrows and looked slightly impressed. However, two of the other new first-year girls, Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, who sat nearby and seemed to have bonded relatively quickly, seemed somewhat less approving.

Harriet merely smiled affectionately at her new friend and started eating. It was the best roast chicken she had ever tasted; juicy and hot and filling. The ghost across from Harriet, Sir Nicholas, sighed as he looked at the eating students.

“Er, aren't you going to eat, Sir Nicholas?" Harriet asked him a little concerned. Sir Nicholas somehow seemed to go a bit more opaque as he looked at Harriet and she blushed, realising she had offended him. Hindsight immediately told her how stupid her question had been.  His look softened, however, seeing her expression.

“No, Harriet my dear, alas, I haven’t been able to eat for nearly five hundred years… not since my poorly botched execution.”

“Execution?” asked Ronnie, piping up a little interested.

“Yes, I was-”

"Wait!" Ronnie said even more excitedly. "I know you! You're Nearly-Headless Nick, aren't you!? My brothers have told me all about you!"

Sir Nicholas went even more opaque around the face.

“I prefer to answer to Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington if you don’t mind!”

Ronnie merely shrugged, looking nonplussed. “Sorry,” she said. “I just always really wanted to meet you.”

Sir Nicholas looked slightly mollified at this and smiled apologetically. "Oh, well, thank you, my dear."

"So, how exactly does one become ‘Nearly-Headless'?" asked the quiet boy named Marcus. Sir Nicholas huffed a little. With his neck ruff, Harriet thought he looked rather like African grouse she had seen in nature programs.

"One does so when nearly a dozen blunted axe chops fail to achieve their desired result, and you wind up like this!" Sir Nicholas said gruffly and tugged at his ear. Lavender and Parvati shrieked as Sir Nicholas' entire head tipped sideways, and was only held on by a small piece of flesh. Despite her earlier appetite, Harriet felt somewhat inclined to push her plate away, as did nearly everyone else in the vicinity, except Ronnie.

Sir Nicholas smiled at the result and replaced his head with a chuckle. "So, all new first-year Gryffindors eh? We’ll need help in finally winning back the house cup this year, so I hope you’re all ready to put your all into your studies. It’s getting so I can barely look the Bloody Baron in the face anymore for shame.” Sir Nicholas said with a sigh.

“The Bloody Baron?” asked Kieran with a mixture of wariness and interest. Sir Nicholas nodded over towards the Slytherin table where Harriet could see another ghost, a horrible one. Not that Sir Nicholas with his unfortunate failed decapitation had been all that pleasant, but The Bloody Baron was deeply sullen looking, and covered in chains and silver blood stains.

“H-how exactly did the Baron get… er… Bloody?” Harriet asked trying her best to sound casual.

Sir Nicholas shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know, he died long before my time, and I’ve never bothered to ask… it is a sensitive question to ask a ghost after all, even from another ghost,” Sir Nicholas explained.

Before long, it seemed more or less everyone had finished with dinner and watching this time, Harriet gasped quietly in amazement as the table and plates emptied themselves, glittering golden again before the trays were refilled with more deserts than even Dudley could have comprehended.

Harriet quickly helped herself to some treacle tarts she saw nearby and casually eavesdropped on other conversations going on around the table. Most people seemed to be talking about their families.

Seamus Finnigan and Kieran declared they were both "half-bloods," though apparently, this was a rather vague term. In Seamus' case, this meant one of his parents, his mother, was a witch while his father was a Muggle. In Kieran's case, both of his parents were magical, but his father was a Muggle-born like Hermione was, and his mother was half-blood. So apparently, the definition of a "half-blood" was a wide one and meant even Harriet herself was one.

Neville was brought up by his grandmother apparently, and hadn't shown any signs of being magical until he was dropped from a window by his great uncle at the age of eight and instead of splatting, he bounced. Neville's family was so pleased they bought him his toad.

“Blimey… his family must _really_ love him then…" muttered Ronnie ironically in Harriet's ear. Harriet, however, looked at Neville and felt she understood him and his affection for even a toad. Harriet knew that if she had a token of love from her family, she would probably hang onto it forever as well.

Marcus explained how he was a Muggle-born like Hermione was, and had only recently moved to England from Australia with his dad so he could come to Hogwarts. He wouldn't go into details why. Sensing it was a sensitive subject; no one pressed him on it. Harriet noticed too that Dean and Neville hadn't discussed their parents either. Dean seemed to be the opposite of Marcus, in that it was his dad he wouldn't discuss.

Now Ronnie was explaining her family lineage, though Harrie faded in interest at this point, as much of it she had already heard during the train ride and turned her attention to Hermione and Percy on her other side. Hermione was asking Percy about the content of lessons.

“So what will we be starting off with? I would love to do some Transfiguration; it sounds so difficult but fascinating."

Percy chuckled at this, clearly impressed by Hermione's obvious ambition. Harriet felt slightly relieved to see that Percy was capable of anything resembling laughter.

“Oh, they'll start you off pretty small in Transfiguration, anxious though you are. You'll be making small things into similar small things, such as matches into toothpicks; that sort of thing."

Harriet felt her interest waning again and looked back up at the teachers' table.  She noted Hagrid immediately (given his size it was impossible to notice anyone else first when he was around) who was drinking from his tankard and conversing with a very pretty blond witch. Professor Dumbledore was deep in conversation with Professor McGonagall.

Also notable was Professor Quirrell, who she had already met with Hagrid at the Leaky Cauldron, who was quickly identifiable by his large turban. Professor Quirrell was supposedly the “Defence Against the Dark Arts” professor, though he seemed too afraid of even his own shadow to be that good a teacher at that subject from what she’d seen and heard.

Harriet’s eyes now moved to the next teacher down the row from Professor Quirrell. He was hook-nosed with long, greasy looking hair and ashen skin. He was dressed in all black robes and seemed one of the most unpleasant people Harriet had ever seen. Suddenly, the unknown professor's eyes darted towards Harriet and as they did, her forehead seared with pain, seemingly running up and down her scar.

Harriet's hand jumped to her forehead and massaged the spot as the pain receded. She looked around sheepishly, but fortunately, no one had noticed. She looked up at Percy again.

“Er, excuse me, Percy, but who’s that next to Professor Quirrell?”

“Oh, you know Professor Quirrell already? Well, that's Professor Snape," Percy said morosely. "I know Professor Quirrell’s usually a bit—er—skittish, but he's right to be trembling if he's talking to Professor Snape… he's the Potions Master, but he really wants Quirrell’s job. Nasty, and very biased. He’s the head of Slytherin House as well.”

That last sentence made perfect sense to Harriet as she glanced back up at Professor Snape. His gaze never came back to Harriet, and she was glad for it.

Finally, Professor Dumbledore stood up, and silence filled the hall again. He beamed around at them all and spread his arms wide in welcome.

"And so, now we have stuffed our stomachs with our kitchen's delicious feast, it is time to fill your heads a little with some announcements finally. Students will do well to check the extensive list on our Caretaker Argus Filch’s door of items not permitted at Hogwarts, and he has reminded me once again to remind you all that magic is not allowed in the corridors between lessons.”

“Notta chance,” muttered George to scattered giggles at the Gryffindor table and even those within earshot at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, though Professor Dumbledore seemed oblivious.

“Quidditch try-outs will start next week, and Captains should check with Madame Hooch for scheduling the Quidditch pitch for their teams.

“First-years need to take note that the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds, though some of our older students could do with a reminding of this rule as well.”

Harriet couldn't help but notice Fred and George chuckling darkly to themselves at this pronouncement, and Percy giving a somewhat disapproving sniff. Fred spotted her looking around at them and gave her a little, roguish wink.

“And finally, it must be noted that the third-floor corridor to the right is now out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to suffer a most gruesome and violent death.”

At these words, Harriet felt a little chill. There was no humour in Professor Dumbledore's face or tone as he said this, which Harriet took as meaning he had been earnest.

Harriet looked around at the other faces, noting everyone else was taking it very seriously as well. She turned to Percy.

"Would—would there really be something in the school that could, you know, kill us?" she asked in a worried voice.

Percy nodded seriously. "Oh yes, magic is a mighty thing after all, though… I would have thought he would have at least told us prefects about this first, or at the very least why that corridor is now off limits…"

“And now, before we part, let us sing the school song!” Professor Dumbledore declared. This pronouncement was met with a mixture of resigned eye rolls, jubilant glee (mainly from the likes of Fred and George), and utter confusion (from Harriet and other first-year students).

Professor Dumbledore waved his wand, and a golden streamer shot out of it, rising high into the air forming words.

“Alright, everyone pick your favourite tune! And begin!”

The school immediately broke into song, though as Harriet listened, she found it impossible to tell what exactly everyone was singing, and just looked at the words.

 

_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald,_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they’re bare and full of air,_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we’ve forgot,_

_Just do your best, we’ll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot._

 

The tunes the other students sang with ranged from Irish ditties to low dirges like funeral processions, as Fred and George were doing. While everyone sang, Professor Dumbledore conducted them all with his wand, which was emitting puffs of smoke that formed musical notes as they floated up to the ceiling.

After the Weasley twins finally finished singing (their slow dirge took far longer than everyone else) Professor Dumbledore sniffled and wiped a tear from his eye.

"Ah, music… a form of art beyond the power of any magic."

Harriet turned as a giggling voice from the Hufflepuff table next to them said, “You know it!” just loud enough to be heard, and Harriet saw it was Isabella Martinez, the girl who had caught so many of the younger boys' eyes. A wave of giggles swept over the Great Hall; even Harriet couldn't help but smile as Professor Dumbledore gave her a warm smile and bow.

"Yes indeed, and now, it is time for us all to get plenty of sleep in preparation for the beginning of our lessons tomorrow. Goodnight!" Professor Dumbledore said, and Percy sprang to his feet, as did a girl who was also wearing a badge with a P on it.

“First-years on me!" he called down the Gryffindor table, and Harriet felt a bit of nervousness again as she got to her feet. The rest of the Gryffindor students headed off, chatting merrily, while Percy led the first-years after them, the girl prefect taking up the rear to help keep them together.

With every twist and turn, a new wonder washed over Harriet. There were the suits of armour that Harriet was quite sure could move and even talk. She could hear quiet though hollow sounding whispers coming from them as they walked along and could have sworn that some were in different positions when she took her eyes off them and looked back.

Even the portraits moved and talked and gossiped about the new students walking through the halls. In a small part of her mind, Harriet wondered at that moment if perhaps even the school itself was somehow alive with magic.

Percy led them along, pointing out false stairs that they had to jump (though Neville fell in one, slowing them up considerably), giving them guidelines as to when certain staircases would change directions as they had a penchant for doing. There were also false doors and many locked doors, some of which varied depending on the day. At the last staircase, a bundle of walking sticks was floating in mid-air.

“Peeves,” muttered Percy darkly as he spotted them, holding out a hand to halt the first-years, “a poltergeist and a nasty one at that.”

At those words, one of the walking sticks flung itself at Percy who whipped his wand out and sent the walking stick flying back at the bundle, though they artfully dodged out of the way. Harriet and a few other students applauded a little at Percy’s magic.

"Peeves, show yourself," Percy commanded.

There was the sound of a raspberry in response, and with a quiet pop, a small man appeared, floating in midair and holding onto the bundle of walking sticks. He suddenly spun in mid-air, flinging four more walking sticks in rapid succession as he did. Percy raised his wand, but this time Kieran stepped forward, pointed the bulb of his shillelagh at the oncoming sticks and yelled " _Protego_!”

Two of the sticks seemed to hit an invisible wall and clatter to the stairs, while another looked like it lost trajectory drastically. The fourth sailed straight at Percy though he deflected it just as easily as the very first one with his wand. Peeves cursed, shaking his fist at Kieran and Percy before vanishing through the wall, the rest of the sticks clattering down too, unable to pass through the wall as Peeves had done.

Everyone was looking at Kieran rather impressed too, and he gave a smile to Dean and Seamus, muttering, "Told you I could do a Protego charm with it.”

Dean and Seamus blanched a little though Marcus smiled and nodded his approval while Percy patted Kieran on the shoulder.

“Outstanding, O’Brien,” Percy said smiling. “With new students like you, the House Cup just may be ours after all. Yes, you all need to keep an eye out for Peeves. He loves pranks, and he was in a towering mood I'm sure to be throwing walking sticks at us, probably because the other ghosts wouldn't allow him into the starting feast. You'd think after all these years he'd just give up. Anyway, we're almost there now."

They continued following Percy, though with two brief pauses further back in line to help Neville who tripped over the walking sticks twice. Behind her, she could hear Kieran, Dean, Seamus and Marcus all arguing over Kieran's spell.

“Well, you didn’t stop all the sticks!” Dean hissed with just a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“He stopped two and slowed down one!” Marcus piped up. Now the sorting was over, and he had a full stomach, he had become much more talkative and relaxed than when Harriet had first seen him.

Finally, they stopped in front of a portrait of a fat lady in a pink dress. She smiled warmly at them all and asked: “Password?”

“Caput Draconis," Percy said in an overly loud voice, so all the first-years could hear.

Harriet concentrated hard on the word, memorising it. As Percy said it, the portrait swung open like a door, and they all started climbing in. Dean and Seamus hung back to help Neville through, but soon they were all in a large and very comfortable looking common room with a warm fire going in the fireplace and soft, squishy armchairs and couches, all of which seemed full of older students who were all chatting and catching up after a summer apart.

Percy then divided them up, boys going to one spiral staircase and girls going to another. Harriet followed Hermione, Ronnie, Lavender, and Parvati into a dorm room marked “First-years.”

Inside the room were five four-poster beds, each with bright red velvet hangings, side tables with pitchers of water and glasses on them, and their trunks at the feet. Harriet could barely contain her excitement seeing them, and Lavender squealed with delight and leapt into hers, bouncing on it before sitting up and beaming around the room.

“Oh I've always so wanted a bed like this since I was little!" she exclaimed though Ronnie merely shrugged, uninterested, and stretched before flopping down onto her bed and closing her eyes. Scabbers spilt out of her jacket pocket with a squeak, rolling down her shoulder onto the bed where he crawled in a disgruntled way to Ronnie's pillow and flopped down there instead.

Parvati and Lavender both turned disapproving eyes on Ronnie before they started changing into their pyjamas. Hermione set a Muggle photograph of two people Harriet assumed were her parents on her bedside table and smiled at them in a slightly sad way before she started changing into her nightshirt.

Harriet opened her trunk, getting changed too and pulling back her covers. The sheets and mattress were soft and warm and seemed to call to Harriet as she slipped between them. Ronnie was already snoring. Parvati threw a pillow at Ronnie who snorted and woke up before she glowered and threw it back. She then got up and started getting into her night clothes too.

"So, I know we all just heard each other's names at the sorting but, I'm Lavender," Lavender said, wanting to diffuse the situation.

“I’m Harriet,” Harriet said nodding and a hush came over the room again.

“Are you really Harriet Potter…? I mean, _the_ Harriet Potter?” Parvati asked, her eyes wide with curiosity as if she'd been brimming to ask but had been too polite to until Harriet herself broached the subject.

“Yes, I—I guess so,” Harriet said and without even asking pulled her hair aside to show the scar. Both Parvati and Lavender gasped with wide eyes.

"Wow, you are going to be so popular with boys. I bet even the older boys, too!" Lavender said, and Parvati nodded in agreement.

"And your hair is so pretty; it's so shiny!" Parvati said smiling.

Harriet blushed slightly and ran a hand through it again. No one had ever told her that before. All she’d ever heard was Aunt Petunia complaining how it never did anything but hang down like a ruffled curtain. The closest thing to a compliment she’d ever gotten about it was also from Aunt Petunia, who was pleased how it seemed to cover her “horrible scar!”

“Th-thanks,” she muttered softly and smiled self-consciously.

Hermione snorted a little from her bed, and Parvati and Lavender shot her disapproving looks too.

“What?” asked Hermione, nonplussed. “I mean we just got here, do you two really have nothing better to talk about than hair and boys…?”

“Why not?” asked Parvati, “there are some really cute boys, especially in our house.”

“And what’s wrong with liking fashion?” said Lavender defensively to Hermione before turning back to Parvati, “Though Hufflepuff did get that one good-looking boy, Jeremy, I think.”

“Well I think Kieran seems quite nice too, and that boy Marcus looked sweet…” said Harriet sheepishly, though she immediately regretted it as both Parvati and Lavender gave long “oooooooooos."

“N-no I mean they seem nice, you know like they’re polite and down to earth and Kieran seems really brave and stands up for people, and Marcus stood up for Kieran so…”

Lavender and Parvati didn't look convinced, but they let the matter drop anyway.

“I rather liked those twins… the two older ones,” said Parvati wistfully. “I like older boys, boys our age are never interested enough in girls yet.”

"They seemed kind of like wolves though; I mean they catcalled nearly all of us," Lavender said, "even those who didn't get into Gryffindor!"

"Those ‘wolves' as you called them are my brothers," said Ronnie irritably from behind the closed curtains of her bed. "Now if you don't mind, some of us are tired and would really like to sleep!" she snarled ominously from out of sight, and Parvati and Lavender fell silent.

Harriet sat up and pulled her curtains shut around her before lying back under her covers. She could hear the sound of Parvati, Lavender and Hermione pulling theirs closed too, all three of them in a seeming huff, though as to why Hermione seemed so upset, Harriet wasn't sure.

She was indeed exhausted; she realised as she lay back down. Despite all the wonderful and exciting things that happened that day, her eyes refused to stay open, and before long, or perhaps even instantly when her head hit the pillow, Harriet was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most non canon characters belong to my friends: night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	4. The First Day

“It is easy to be deceived when it comes to friendship. I wish I could say there was a definitive way to determine who your true friends are, and who your false friends are. That is an often painful lesson that only experience can teach. But do not shy away from a chance at friendship because you are afraid of pain. Embrace friendships wherever you see them because one true friendship will help you weather a thousand false ones. But even more than that, it is incredible how often the simple warm smile can turn any friend from false to true.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Harriet winced as she opened her eyes. The pain wasn’t in her eyes; it was in her scar. It was prickling slightly, and as she sat up she felt cold and clammy, and her nightshirt clung to her skin.

She vaguely remembered a bad dream. Something about Professor Quirrell’s turban and a lot of green light, like in so many of the strange dreams she’d had growing up. She also remembered laughter, but by the time she pulled back the bed curtain, all memory of the dream was gone.

Harriet climbed out of bed slowly. Out the window, Harriet saw it was still dark outside. She picked up her glasses from the bedside table put them on. She knew she hadn’t slept very much that night, and she would probably regret it by the end of the day, but Harriet crossed to the window and looked out at the grounds anyway. It was still too dark to make out much of anything on the grounds below, and she sighed as she turned around and looked back at the room.

The sound of deep breathing was coming from Ronnie’s bed. The other three were utterly silent. Harriet walked back over towards her bed but paused, looking down at her trunk. There was a stack of folded clothes there that had not been there the night before. She knelt down, squinting in the low light, picking up the bundle and carrying it around to her bed. She sat and turned up the small oil lamp beside her bed.

It was a school uniform. Her first actual school uniform, not just second-hand clothes dyed grey like the Dursleys had always made her wear before. It was a grey jumper, with a collar and cuffs of banded scarlet and gold, the Gryffindor colours. On the left breast were some words, all intricately embroidered in golden thread: “Harriet Lily Potter: First Year”.

She set the jumper aside and next picked up the white button-up shirt and a scarlet and gold striped tie. Next came a dark grey pleated skirt and a pair of grey knee-high socks that had a red and gold banded cuff at the top. Harriet bit her lip and barely suppressed a giggle of excitement. They were the most beautiful clothes she had ever had in her life.

Harriet jumped up and quickly started getting changed. She finished as quietly as she could and stepped in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the dormitory door, twisting this way and that and smiling. It was real; it wasn’t a dream. But if it was, it certainly wasn’t a bad one. She heard a moan behind her and turned, seeing Ronnie pulling back the curtains. She was wholly dishevelled and looked around grumpily through half-opened eyes.

Ronnie’s moan seemed to have roused the other three, and one by one the curtains on Hermione, Lavender, and Parvati’s beds were pulled back. Harriet walked back and sat on her bed and turned the small mirror that had also appeared there during the night towards herself; trying to mess with her hair that was still sort of all over the place.

Harriet turned at an exclamation from Ronnie behind her. She watched as Ronnie hurried over, beaming, and held out her jumper to Harriet. She leaned over and read the inscription: “Ronnie Murielle Weasley: First Year.”

“They got my name right!” Ronnie exclaimed in delight.

Harriet smiled up at her friend. “Oh good!” she replied warmly.

“Why was your name listed as Ronald anyway?” Lavender asked out of the blue. Ronnie glared at Lavender, who didn’t seem to realise she’d asked an offensive question. Parvati nudged her hard in the ribs with her elbow, and Lavender muttered, “What?” under her breath in an oblivious way.

“If you must know… before I was born, my parents were so sure I’d be another boy they picked the name Ronald. Then I was born in the middle of the night, and after that, my dad was so tired, and my mum was obviously asleep, so when he filled out the birth certificate he accidentally put the old boy name, not the new name my mother had picked out, Rhonda. After that, of course, my family happens to be rather poor and wasn’t able to afford the price to change my name legally, so my whole life’s been: ‘well let’s just call her Ronnie then and hope no one notices…’ Okay?”

Parvati and Lavender blinked, and even Hermione gave Ronnie a glance that might have been vaguely sympathetic. Harriet felt her heart sink for her friend. It explained so much she’d been wondering about in both Ronnie’s personality and her name.

“S-sorry,” Lavender said softly. The whole room went quiet and slowly started getting dressed.

Harriet felt herself blush a little, as the other girls seemed to show no shame as they all just started changing into their uniforms. Harriet had never shared a room with other girls before, or in fact anyone, and she did her best not to look as they did.

“So, uh, how did everyone sleep?” asked Parvati quietly to the room at large, apparently trying to diffuse the sticky moment. Hermione and Ronnie both gave non-committal grunts while Harriet merely shrugged, still mostly averting her eyes as nonchalantly as she could.

As she stole a few glances, Harriet couldn’t help but notice Hermione was dressing at top speed, and in scarcely more than a minute she pulled on her robes over her uniform and departed from the dormitory with her bag. Ronnie dressed more slowly, and while Parvati and Lavender had already dressed, they were now being held up by dallying with their hair. Harriet meanwhile stood by the end of her bed, feeling a little awkward as she waited for Ronnie to finish dressing.

“Oh, Harriet, here!” Lavender said walking over briskly, and before Harriet could respond, Lavender brushed up her fringe up over her right ear and pinned it there with a small silver hair-clip.

Lavender smiled and led Harriet over to her mirror, showing Harriet the effect. Harriet saw her cheeks go a little pink: the hair-clip was shaped like a running cat, the sight of which gave Harriet a warm feeling she couldn’t describe, like it triggered a deeply buried happy memory, long forgotten.

“Oh wow, thanks so much Lavender…” Harriet said blushing brighter. Lavender beamed, and Parvati walked over with earrings looking eager.

“Here Harriet, how about these?” Parvati asked, but Harriet blushed even brighter.

“Er, I don’t have any piercings… sorry…” Harriet muttered under her breath, and Parvati lowered the earrings, looking crestfallen.

“Oh, well that’s okay; we can maybe fix that later!” Parvati said as she hitched a smile back on her face. This didn’t cheer Harriet up as much as Parvati seemed to think it should, but Parvati didn’t seem to notice.

Feeling anxious, Harriet quickly thanked Lavender and Parvati before turning back looking to see how far along Ronnie was but was only quick enough to see Ronnie disappearing from the room. Harriet felt herself deflate a little but Parvati and Lavender just smiled and sat her back down in front of Lavender’s vanity before she started combing Harriet’s hair.

Parvati got out some blush and began lightly applying it to Harriet’s cheeks, along with some light eyeshadow.

“Your skin’s so nice… you don’t need much of this I don’t think,” Parvati told her before she applied it to Lavender as well. After that, they each looped an arm into one of Harriet’s, and they all went down to breakfast together.

 

It was slow going getting there since they were still entirely new to all the moving or trick staircases and locked or false doors. It took somewhere around twenty minutes to finally get there. Despite her relief at eventually reaching their destination, however, her mood changed dramatically once they finally entered.

As they walked in, Harriet could almost feel as well as hear the whispering that broke out everywhere. She blushed and hung her head a little, suddenly wishing she hadn’t worn Lavender’s hair-clip and could hang her hair in her face and try to be invisible.

She shivered feeling like every eye in the world was on her as Lavender and Parvati hugged her arms tighter in theirs and walked with her towards the Gryffindor table. As they approached, Harriet immediately looked for Ronnie. She quickly spotted her sitting at one end of the table with Dean, Seamus, Kieran and Marcus.

She also noticed Hermione sitting alone at the far opposite end of the table, and Neville sitting sort of nearby, as if he had tried to sit with her but got too scared to and just sat where his courage finally gave out. Harriet decided to stop to sit by Ronnie and the boys, but Parvati and Lavender steered her further down the table to where Fred and George were seated.

“Gooooood morning, ladies,” Fred said smiling as he spooned a generous helping of scrambled eggs onto his plate. George had an over-large stack of pancakes he was cutting into bites barely small enough to fit into his mouth and dousing them with syrup. Harriet felt a little put off by the gluttonous display, but Lavender and Parvati beamed at them unperturbed.

“So, I’m Lavender,” said Lavender tossing her curly brown hair and batting her eyes.

“And I’m Parvati,” Parvati said, doing her best to look charming. Harriet merely felt foolish as Parvati and Lavender looked at her, expecting her to introduce herself too.

“Uh, we’ve… met…” Harriet said with a sheepish look at Fred and George who merely chuckled as they started wolfing down their food.

“Charmed,” said Fred though a large mouthful of eggs, giving a little salute and George nodded.

“We’re Fred and George,” he said through an equally large mouthful of pancakes.

At this, Parvati did look a little sceptical and shot Lavender a look. Lavender, however, didn’t flinch.

“Oh, so you two’ve met Harriet then?” Lavender.

“Oh yeah, helped her onto the train yesterday,” said Fred before taking a deep gulp of his milk, barely managing to stop it from splashing a little down the front of his robes. As they did, Harriet suddenly felt herself getting a little suspicious. She thought she had gotten a pretty good idea of Fred and George’s personality yesterday and somehow this slovenly display was starting to seem like just that; display.

Finally, George gave a belch, and now even Lavender seemed like her interest was waning. Harriet casually helped herself to some eggs too as Lavender and Parvati shot glances at each other behind her head.

“Well, ummmm, I think I’m gonna go talk to those girls over there,” Lavender said starting to rise. “Coming Parvati, Harriet?”

Parvati nodded, but Harriet looked at Fred and George, both of whom gave her the slightest of winks and so she merely shrugged.

“Uh, no, you two go, I just started eating,” Harriet said.

Parvati got to her feet and joined Lavender, both looking a little disappointed. Harriet looked back at Fred and George, both of whom had suddenly started eating as regularly as anyone else. George was even cutting his pancakes into smaller bits.

“You two are a piece of work; you know that?” Harriet declared, shaking her head in amusement.

Fred and George only laughed and beamed.

“Eh, we know their type,” George said with a shrug.

“Yeah, ‘Oh, he acknowledged I exist, time to move in for the kill!’” Fred went on while putting some ketchup on his eggs now.

“So you’re leading them on?” Harriet asked, again feeling her opinion of them dropping. Fred and George both looked aghast.

“Not at all! We were completely genuinely excited they ended up in Gryffindor, so we cheered them loudly. No leading on going on at all!” said George looking wounded.

“But we were excited for everyone that ended up in Gryffindor, not just them. Hey, we’re third years after all; it’s not our first ‘rodeo’ so to speak,” Fred elaborated with a shrug.

“So when types like those two show up, we just put on the slob act, nips it right quick we find,” George said with a chuckle.

Harriet just shook her head in amazement and finally took a bite of her eggs. In her hunger, Harriet barely suppressed a groan as the eggs slid into her stomach.

Now Fred fitted her with a slightly disapproving look. “Now you on the other hand… we’re a little disappointed in.”

Harriet sat up straight, caught off guard by this statement.

“Me? Why?”

George put his hand on Fred’s shoulder, and Fred nodded conceding.

“Well,” George said, “We were just more under the impression you were becoming Ronnie’s friend…” he said in a slightly big brotherly way that was taking Harriet aback. Harriet looked down at her remaining eggs.

“I… well… I am… I mean… I want to be… I just… I don’t know,” She said haltingly, trying to find the right words before she just hung her head a little looking at her plate.

“Harriet,” Fred started, leaning over, “have you ever had a friend before?” he finished delicately.

Harriet looked up at him and shook her head.

“Ah, well, that would explain it, yeah,” said Fred.

“Neither’s Ronnie.”

Fred and George looked at each other and then back at Harriet. “Gotta be careful with friends when something sets you apart, makes you, you know, ‘cool’.”

“Which is something we know all about of course,” chimed Fred in a cheery tone.

“Right you are, brother of mine. You have to be on the lookout for ‘clingers,’ kinda like we rather suspect Parvati and Lavender are.”

Harriet blinked a little giving a glance down the table at Parvati and Lavender who were looking put out.

“But, they seem so nice… Lavender gave me this hair-clip, and they did my hair and make-up for me. I’ve… I’ve never worn makeup before,” Harriet said pointing to the hair-clip and her eyeshadow.

Fred and George nodded. “I’m sure, but they don’t want to be your friend to be your friend, they want to be your friend because you’re who you are,” George said sagely.

“How do you know?”

Fred snorted. “It was written all over their faces when they came in with you. They were grinning like they’d just won a beauty pageant. You couldn’t see them because you were too busy pretending you didn’t exist.”

Harriet blushed more before glancing back up the table at Ronnie. “But… when Ronnie came into my compartment, she just wanted to talk about me being Harriet Pott—”

Fred chuckled cutting her off. “We told her to go into your compartment. We thought you two would be a good match as friends.”

Harriet blinked. Her image she’d been building up of Fred and George was melting away drastically. She stole another glance down the table at Ronnie and felt a bit of shame.

“But… she’s mad at me…”

Fred and George looked down the table too and shook their heads.

“Nah, Ronnie never gets that upset.”

“Yeah,” said Fred with a nod. “Just go down and sit by her now. And don’t let her get up and go without you once you get there. She doesn’t get that upset, but she can get melodramatic.”

“And don’t let Lavender and Parvati intercept you!” George cut in as an afterthought.

Harriet blushed looking back at Lavender and Parvati.

“So, what should I do about Parvati and Lavender then…?”

Fred and George merely shrugged.

“Be nice to them of course,” said Fred.

“Let them see there’s more to you than being famous,” George said with a wink.

Harriet nodded and bit her lip. She was about to stand up when she got a sudden idea. She sat back down and looked at Fred and George seriously.

“Okay,” she said stiffly. “I’ll do it if you promise never to tease Ronnie about her name again.”

Fred and George now looked taken aback, and defensive, but Harriet put a very determined look on her face, and the twins finally smiled and nodded.

“You drive a hard bargain, Potter. It’s a deal,” Fred said and held out a hand. Harriet shook it, and then she finally stood up and started walking down towards the other end of the table.

Lavender and Parvati looked up at her hopefully but then pouted a little sulkily as Harriet remembered George’s warning and sped up past them. She reached where Ronnie, Dean, Seamus, Kieran and Marcus were all sitting. The four boys smiled at her as she approached but Ronnie, who was done eating by the looks of it, started to get up.

“Oh, um, Ronnie, wait, want to ummm, find first class together in a bit after breakfast?” Harriet asked quickly. Ronnie paused half way up and finally looked at Harriet.

“You sure?” Ronnie asked back. “You sure you don’t wanna go with them?” she nodded at Lavender and Parvati who were looking over at Harriet looking even more disappointed.

Harriet shook her head. “No, I want to go with you, you’re my friend,” she said trying to sound firm. Ronnie’s ears went pink, but she sat back down and nodded.

“Yeah, okay then.”

Harriet sighed in relief and quickly sat with them. She had just enough time to smile at the four boys around them and open her mouth to ask them all how their first nights had gone when there came the sound of many rustling pieces of paper high above them. Harriet looked up and gasped seeing an entire horde of owls come streaming into the Great Hall through an opening in the ceiling. Owls of every sort imaginable were fluttering around, landing on the tables and giving letters and packages to students.

A sizeable Tawny owl landed right in front of Marcus who beamed and pulled off her letter.

“Hey Hesper, thanks,” he said and stroked the owl’s head gently. The owl hooted softly and nibbled Marcus’ finger back.

“Everyone, this is Hesper, my owl. Hesper, this is everyone,” he said. The owl hooted looking at them all in turn. Without warning, Hesper spun, snatching two pieces of bacon from Dean’s plate before spreading her wings and launching herself into the air, utterly silent except for a slightly victorious hoot.

“Hey!” Dean called after the bird but to no avail and grumbled helping himself to more bacon. “There was a whole tray there, why did he have to take mine?!” Dean exclaimed in exasperation as everyone else laughed, except Marcus, who muttered:

“She.”

Despite that, Marcus smiled and finally opened his letter. “It’s from Dad,” he said opening and reading it, his smile increasing with each line.

Harriet looked around at the other students. Draco Malfoy had a large box of sweets from his parents evidently and was grinning smugly at the different jealous faces around him. Kieran’s friend Scott had a letter, too. As she kept looking, she spotted Hermione again down the other end of the table and felt a slight frown come onto her face. She should have thought to go and invite her down to join them too.

Harriet jumped as something white swept past her vision. It was her snowy owl, Hedwig, who was now sitting on the table in front of her and hooting warmly. Harriet smiled at the owl, who wasn’t carrying a letter, but it seemed had merely flown in just to see her. Harriet reached up and gently stroked Hedwig’s fluffy head.

“Hi, Hedwig; getting along well with the other owls?”

Hedwig gave a little hoot which Harriet took to mean a yes and smiled at the other students who were looking at Hedwig admiringly.

“Well, this is Hedwig. Hedwig, this is Ronnie, Dean, Seamus, Kieran and Marcus,” she said, gesturing to each of her new friends as she said their names. Hedwig gave another little, somewhat dignified hoot before she too silently flapped off towards the opening in the ceiling.

“Heh, guess now my bacon’s not good enough,” Dean muttered ironically as he watched her go.

“She must have caught a mouse already,” Harriet said watching her go.

Now Professor McGonagall came around, handing out the new timetables to all of the students. Looking at it, Harriet saw their very first lesson would be History of Magic with Professor Binns. Ronnie groaned.

“Oh no… I’ve heard about Professor Binns…”

Harriet looked up nervously, worried by Ronnie’s tone. “What about him?” she asked, the four boys looking on with just as much curiosity.

“Yeah, I rather like history,” Kieran muttered indignantly.

“It’s not the subject; it’s the teacher: Binns. He’s a ghost, and he’s ridiculously boring,” Ronnie said rolling her eyes. “He apparently just drones on and oooon,” Ronnie said dismally. The rest continued to look disbelieving that a class taught by a ghost could be boring, but Ronnie didn’t seem to notice.

Finally, breakfast ended with a ringing bell and an enormous clattering as everyone got to their feet. Harriet hitched her bag up onto her back and smiled waiting for Ronnie. Ronnie got up too and smiled back, holding out her arm. Harriet beamed and looped her arm into Ronnie’s (which was a little awkward given Ronnie was a half a head taller than her) and with the four boys they went off to find their first class.

## * * * *

Getting to their first lesson took nearly as long as it took getting to the Great Hall. Even with six of them, they kept running into dead ends. Marcus at one point tripped into a tapestry that gave way, revealing a secret passage behind it. They all looked at it curiously, Kieran even a bit eagerly, though they decided that now just before their first class was probably not the best time to go exploring.

They finally started up a staircase and thankfully reached the classroom. Seamus reached for the door handle but jumped back with a nasally yell. A small, brightly coloured arm had shot out through the door and grabbed his nose.

“GOT YOUR CONK!” cackled a loud voice and from out of the door shot the rest of Peeves, the poltergeist. Seamus yelled and spun around, trying to throw Peeves off. Kieran even tried hitting Peeves with his club of his shillelagh, but it sailed straight through the poltergeist who cackled more.

 

_“Poor ickle firsties,_

_Best be on your toes,_

_Keep your widdle witsies_

_Or Peeves’ll get your nose!”_

 

Peeves cackled insanely and finally let go of Seamus’ nose and rocketed down the hall. Seamus groaned rubbing his nose and shaking his fist after the little poltergeist.

“Lidder git…” he mumbled as he rubbed his aching nose. The rest of them did their best to look sympathetic and not laugh as they were all inclined to do.

They filed into the classroom, and as they did Harriet saw the only other first-year who had found the room already: Hermione. She was putting some of her school things back in her bag and wiping her eyes. Peeves had evidently decided it would be just as good an idea to grab her bag and dump her things all over the room as it was to catch Seamus’ nose through the door. Harriet crossed over to her and knelt, picking up some of Hermione’s books.

“Oh, thanks,” Hermione said awkwardly as she took them.

“Mind if we join you?” Harriet asked.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ronnie shake her head quickly, but even though she was anxious to please Ronnie after this morning, she ignored her. Hermione looked around at the rest of them before she slowly shook her head.

“N-no, that’s fine, go ahead.” She said retaking her seat.

Harriet smiled, and they all moved in, taking seats around Hermione. Harriet noticed that Hermione kept her head low as they sat. At first, she thought Hermione was trying to hide that she was blushing behind her thick hair, but at a second glance, she realised Hermione was smiling ever so slightly. The door opened again behind them, and Parvati and Lavender finally came in, both of them giving Harriet dirty looks.

Harriet felt her cheeks grow hot as she looked away, and wondered a little if Fred and George had been right in their assessment of the two girls after all, as they seemed pretty genuinely offended. Regardless, as she had to live with them, Harriet wanted to be sure they stayed on good terms. She tried to wave them over, but they took two seats at the back of the room and ignored her.

After Neville finally made his way into the room, they all turned to face the blackboard. Kieran opened his mouth as if he was about to ask something when everyone jumped (Neville fell out of his chair). A ghost had come straight out of the blackboard. He looked very old, and he cleared his throat as he started addressing the class. Harriet couldn’t help but feel that throat clearing was probably not that necessary for a ghost.

“Today, we are going to discuss the goblin rebellion of 1876, which resulted in the deaths of…”

Harriet didn’t know what it was, but something in the way Professor Binns spoke seemed to be sapping her brain of energy. His voice was quivery and droning, and very measured. Harriet found she couldn’t focus, and instead found her attention drifting to Hermione’s quill, which was flying across her parchment taking notes.

In front of her, Kieran seemed to be doing an alright job of fighting off the apparent effect of Professor Binns’ voice, but after a good twenty minutes, even his head was starting to droop a little, a full five minutes after Ronnie had started snoring. Harriet nudged her a little with her elbow, making her snort.

Despite all these things that would be apparent distractions in another teacher’s class, Professor Binns seemed utterly oblivious to them. He just kept staring at his notes and talking.

Beside her, Marcus was grumbling irritably. “This is history… this is supposed to be exciting things that happened that made everything the way it is!” he muttered, shaking his head at Professor Binns incredulously. “He’s making it sound like he’s giving directions on how to cook noodles!”

Harriet barely had time to nod in agreement when the bell rang. With a massive wave of relief, she got to her feet, putting away her unused ink, quill and parchment. Kieran and Marcus had managed to make some headway, while Dean and Seamus had played numerous games of “hangman.” Ronnie’s parchment was stuck to her cheek as she sat up with a start.

“Well, that was a fascinating lesson!” Hermione exclaimed excitedly as Professor Binns floated back out of the room through the blackboard. The rest of them merely looked at her and shook their heads, disbelieving.

“Well, it was! I mean, the way Blagnock thought of that counter-attack by tunnelling under the wizarding forces and attacking from right under the wizards’ feet!”

Harriet blinked a little. She vaguely remembered hearing the name “Blagnock”… or was it “Gladrock”? Harriet merely shrugged and turned to the rest as they started making their way out of the room.

“Well, what’s next?” Seamus asked pulling out his schedule.

Harriet pulled hers out too. Next was Transfiguration. She was somewhat excited for this class, as Professor McGonagall was the head of their house after all. Harriet was interested to see what she was like in lessons, though he was sure she wouldn’t be much different than her stiff demeanour the first few times Harriet had seen her.

She was right. They had just sat down in class when Professor McGonagall strode in with her books. Her hair was still done up in its tight bun, and she stood before the room, turning and surveying them.

“Put that away, Miss Patil. When I am in the classroom, my class is officially in session, and magazines are not permitted in here. This is your first warning,” she barked, and from the back of the room Parvati squeaked, and there was a rustling of papers as Parvati put away the magazine she and Lavender had been reading. Professor McGonagall’s eyes scanned the classroom.

“Miss Brown, straighten your tie. Mister Finnigan, tuck in your shirt. Miss Weasley, pull those socks up, please. I do hope you all were not looking like this while representing Gryffindor house in other classes this morning!” she said in a huff. Harriet looked around, seeing Seamus, Lavender and Ronnie all look sheepish as they adjusted their uniforms.

“Welcome to Transfiguration,” Professor McGonagall said as she started the class. “One of the most difficult subjects taught at Hogwarts, and without proper, thorough study and practice, you will not go very far in this class. Break any rules in this classroom, and you will leave and not return,” Professor McGonagall said as she glared down at them all. Harriet felt herself shrinking with every word, and she saw Ronnie sliding down further in her chair as Professor McGonagall spoke.

However, most of this was forgotten the moment Professor McGonagall turned and tapped her desk with her wand, and at once the desk turned into a pig. It gave a high pitched squeal at the collective gasping that swept over the classroom, but before it could bolt, Professor McGonagall promptly turned it back into a desk.

“Now,” said Professor McGonagall, turning back to the class. “It will take rather longer for you all to accomplish that. Not until after many, many years of study and practice. Today, you will be starting by turning matchsticks into needles. But!” she said over the outbreak of excited murmuring. “First, you must take notes on the proper procedure for doing so. Open your books to chapter one.”

Professor McGonagall hadn’t been exaggerating. Transfiguration was hard. Harriet hadn’t had another real magical class to compare it to yet, but compared to History of Magic, where apparently the hardest part was keeping awake, it was rocket science. It required not just deep concentration, proper recitation of the incantation and precise wand movements, but it also needed an understanding of not only the nature of the object you were transfiguring but also of what you were turning it into. You had to be able to visualise both precisely at the same time.

After the whole hour of class: a half hour studying and note-taking and a half hour trying to do it, only Hermione had accomplished any change in her matchstick. It had gone all pointy at one end and become silver coloured, though it was still made of wood. Apparently, she was the first student to have ever gotten that far the first day in any of McGonagall’s classes, and she gave Hermione a soft smile of approval

This, of course, annoyed Ronnie, who muttered darkly as Hermione walked loftily just a few paces ahead of them, talking to Marcus about how she’d accomplished it. Harriet, whose arm was still hooked in Ronnie’s, gave her arm a consoling squeeze and Ronnie seemed to loosen up a little. They were making their way to the school greenhouses now for Herbology.

Herbology, it turned out, was rather enjoyable. It was much easier than Transfiguration, and much more interesting than Professor Binns’ History of Magic lessons. Professor Sprout was a very good-natured witch, contrasting to Professor McGonagall quite a bit. Harriet found she rather enjoyed the feel of working, doing something with her hands. She’d always been required to help Aunt Petunia in the garden back home, pulling weeds and digging holes.

But Herbology was utterly different. Instead of just back-breaking labour, it was learning the proper soil and lighting conditions for plants, how best to handle them, as well as what properties they had for use in things like potion ingredients and healing. How to tell what was poisonous, and what was not.

Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione were at a table together, Dean, Seamus and Marcus at another, Kieran and Neville at another and Parvati and Lavender at yet another. She, Hermione, and Ronnie were doing better at their table than Parvati and Lavender were, both of whom seemed extremely reluctant to get their hands dirty, especially just before lunch.

Harriet couldn’t help but smile as they worked. By the end of the class, all of them had hands entirely covered in dirt, and they all had dirt smudges all over their faces. Even Ronnie looked like she was warming up to Hermione by the time they made it into the castle and headed for the first girl’s toilet they knew.

As they entered, they were greeted by a horrible sight. The toilets were all overflowing, and a girl who looked only a couple years older than them was floating around the ceiling and wailing loudly. It was just at a second glance that Harriet noted the girl was a ghost.

The girl ghost paid them no mind as they slowly backed out of the toilet, doing their best not to step in the rising levels of water, when they turned around to an even more horrible sight. A wheezy, balding man was glaring down at them angrily, while a bandy-legged cat with bulging yellow eyes mewed up at them from the man’s feet. Its eyes almost made it seem like it was smirking at them.

“What are you three doing…?” the man snarled. Going quickly through her memory banks; Harriet finally remembered who the man was. Argus Filch, the caretaker.

“N-nothing sir,” Hermione squeaked looking terrified. “We-we just stopped into the bathroom, and the toilets are overflowing, and there’s this girl ghost flying around and crying.”

Filch didn’t look convinced. “A likely story! Covered in filth, tracking dirt on my nice clean floors, and I’ll bet you’re the ones who upset Myrtle to boot, aren’t you!? I have enough to do around here without pesky first-years like you causing trouble like this!”

“We didn’t upset Myrtle!” Ronnie declared in a huff, putting her hands on her hips. “We didn’t even know that was her name until you just said so!”

From within the bathroom, there came a renewed screaming wail.

“OH YES! NO ONE KNOWS POOR MYRTLE’S NAME!”

“It’s our first day!” Ronnie yelled back.

“DIDN’T BOTHER TO ASK DID YOU!?” the ghost named Myrtle yelled back.

“Ronnie you’re making it worse!” Hermione declared in exasperation. Ronnie had just started to round on her when yet another voice piped in from behind them all.

“E-e-e-xcuse me b-b-but what’s g-g-going on h-h-h-h-here?” came a stuttering voice. It was only now Harriet was aware of the smell of garlic, and they turned to see Professor Quirrell. He was looking back and forth between Filch and the students.

“Professor Quirrell! These students have been tracking dirt into the castle, and they’ve upset Moaning Myrtle and made her clog and overflow all the toilets!”

“N-n-n-nonsense A-A-A-Argus, w-w-we all kn-kn-kn-know Myrtle g-g-g-gets u-u-up-upset at the s-s-s-slightest thing, t-t-t-to blame it on these s-s-students is s-s-s-silly.”

“Silly?!” exclaimed Filch outraged. “There’s nothing silly about blatant vandalism of—”

Harriet turned to Hermione and Ronnie, both of whom looked back with the same expression. Without another moment’s hesitation, all three of them bolted, running up the corridor towards the stairs. Filch yelled after them, but it seemed he wasn’t chasing after them. They stopped at the top of the next staircase, and all looked at each other before Harriet and Ronnie both fell over laughing. Hermione was still looking a little worried they were going to be in trouble, but before long she too smiled and looked a little relieved.

“Saved by Quirrell, eh?” asked Ronnie as she pushed herself back up from the wall. “Who’d have thought!?”

“Yeah, it-it seems so,” Hermione said tossing her bushy hair.

“Well,” Harriet said looking around. “Suppose we’d better find the bathroom on this floor then?”

The three of them walked down the hall until they finally did find a bathroom, which was thankfully free of wailing ghosts, overflowing toilets and best of all, Filch.

After washing up, they went down to lunch. While there, Hermione (though much to Harriet’s trepidation at first) repaired Harriet’s broken glasses with a spell she had learned from reading ahead in their Charms textbook. She could even see more clearly through them.

After lunch, they had a free afternoon, though the looming homework that Professor McGonagall had given them already blunted the ‘free’ aspect. Hermione, of course, had none, as she’d managed to change her matchstick even marginally in class already.

Harriet wasn’t finding homework all that easy as they sat studying in the Gryffindor common room. Not so much because of the subject matter, more because of how other Gryffindor students seemed to whisper about her when they saw her. Finally, she snorted in annoyance and Ronnie did too.

“Let’s go up to the dorm,” Ronnie suggested.

Harriet and Ronnie hitched their bags up on their shoulders and started for the staircase to the girls’ dormitories. They climbed them to the first year room but stopped after stepping inside. Parvati and Lavender were there, reading the magazine that Professor McGonagall had reprimanded Parvati about in class. Both girls turned less than favourable looks on Harriet and Ronnie as they entered.

“Oh… hello,” Lavender said, shortly.

“Hi,” Harriet and Ronnie said in unison. There was an uncomfortable pause as Ronnie and Harriet looked at each other sheepishly and made their way to their beds.

“S-so, how was your first day?” Harriet asked Lavender and Parvati, though she kicked herself for asking it shortly after that.

Lavender and Parvati didn’t respond, merely shrugged indifferently. After a few minutes, Hermione came in too looking disgruntled.

“It’s so noisy down there!” she exclaimed looking over her shoulder towards the common room. They all looked up at her, Harriet and Ronnie having only just now taken out their books, while Lavender and Parvati were still sitting by themselves and murmuring.

Hermione looked around at everyone and gave out a groan of exasperation.

“So much drama on just the first day!” she exclaimed again in aggravation. All four of the other girls leaned back in surprise as Hermione turned and stomped out of the dormitory muttering something about the library.

The four of them looked around the room awkwardly, all of them looking somewhat ashamed of themselves. Harriet and Lavender went to say something at the same time, but both stopped before Harriet finally ploughed ahead.

“Ummm, hey would you two, ummmm, like to work on McGonagall’s homework with us…?”

Parvati and Lavender looked at each other then back at Harriet and Ronnie.

“Okay, if you want to try some of these hair charms with us later…?” Parvati. Harriet smiled but looked back at Ronnie, who seemed less than thrilled with this idea.

“Oh come on, Ronnie,” Harriet said with a smile. Ronnie looked from Lavender and Parvati to Harriet and finally nodded.

“Fiinneee,” she groaned but still smiled.

## * * * *

Despite the awkwardness of the earlier part of the day, it ended up being one of the most fun nights Harriet had ever had. Even Ronnie was smiling by the end, though all in all, very little homework got done. They mostly talked and laughed about their home lives.

Parvati and her sister, Padma, were the daughters of immigrants. Their father was a Muggle businessman, and their mother was a witch who worked for the Ministry monitoring trade in potions ingredients. Lavender, on the other hand, was a pure-blood like Ronnie. Harriet ended up in a sticky situation after this news when she asked if Ronnie and Lavender’s families knew each other. Ronnie, Lavender and Parvati all gave Harriet a dumbfounded look before cracking up laughing.

“What?” Harriet asked bashfully.

Lavender responded first, sitting up. “Just because we’re from two pure-blood families doesn’t mean we automatically know each other!” she giggled sitting back up and pulling Ronnie back up too. She finished running the tip of her wand along Ronnie’s fringe, repeating the incantation in the magazine over and over again, so they swept across her forehead instead of falling into her face

Harriet’s hair meanwhile they had a harder time handling. Harriet was reluctant to do any hairstyle that exposed her forehead, wanting to keep her hair covering her right forehead at least, so it covered her scar. In the end, Parvati and Lavender settled on curling the ends of Harriet’s hair and giving it a small wave.

Harriet had also tried to give back the hair-clip Lavender had given her earlier that morning. However, Lavender refused, telling Harriet she could keep it, saying it looked much better in her straighter hair and also noting how it matched her glasses, which had also become somewhat shinier since Hermione repaired them.

They asked Harriet about her life now, which Harriet was more than reluctant to talk about, but as they had all talked about theirs, she felt slightly obligated. Parvati and Lavender looked just as shocked and outraged as Ronnie had at the stories of her bullying by her cousin. As she looked at them all, she felt better and better about her life finally. Things were looking up.

After another few hours, Hermione returned. Her look when she saw them all laughing was not entirely dissimilar from her expression when she’d seen them not talking.

“Hermione! Want to join us?” Parvati asked excitedly.

Hermione looked at her in shock. “Join you?”

“Yeah,” said Lavender smiling and nodding. “We could help get your hair not to be so—you know—huge?”

Harriet groaned, and Parvati elbowed Lavender in the ribs again. Hermione meanwhile had turned a bright shade of scarlet and turned from the room without another word.

The four girls looked at each other.

“Should we go after her…?” Parvati asked delicately.

Harriet simply shrugged. “I don’t know…” she admitted softly.

In the end, they decided to give her time to cool down and went to dinner instead. Harriet had hoped Hermione would be there so she could talk to her and try to get her to join them again. However, Hermione wasn’t there. Harriet wished in her head that Hermione had already eaten.

“Think we should try to find her…?” Harriet asked nervously, looking towards the door. Ronnie shrugged.

“If she doesn’t wanna eat, it’s her choice,” she said indifferently.

They quickly found Kieran, Marcus, and this time Neville and sat with them. Parvati and Lavender wasted little time introducing themselves to the new boys, who didn’t seem the slightest bothered in introducing themselves back. They talked all about how their first day had gone as they helped themselves to a horde of steak and kidney pies, pork chops, vegetables of all kinds and several puddings. Dinner was delicious as ever, and before long Harriet did give a look down the table at Fred and George, who each gave her a discrete wink and thumbs-up in unison. She excused herself and got up from the table and walked down to where Fred and George were sitting.

“So, think you may have been wrong about Lavender and Parvati…” she said in a slightly victorious tone. Fred and George however merely shrugged.

“I wouldn’t get too full of yourself there, little one,” Fred said with a smile before taking a bite of steak and kidney pie.

“Yeah, I think you simply did what we told you to do,” said George.

“What was that?” asked Harriet, trying to remember.

“Showed them there was more to you than being famous,” Fred grinned. “Now scram, you’re gonna ruin our reputation with all this ‘making us nice to the new kid business’.”

Harriet beamed at them before returning to where her new friends were all sitting. Ronnie gave Harriet a questioning look while Lavender and Parvati still seemed to have some barely suppressed jealousy, but she let it go.

After dinner, they returned to the dormitory. There they spent the rest of the evening talking about boys. Lavender and Parvati both seemed to be utterly boy crazy. Ronnie was still pretty much in an “all boys are stupid, mean, ugly jerks” frame of mind, while Harriet herself personally felt pretty indifferent to them, having never really talked to any growing up because of Dudley.

Finally, they all started to get tired and started getting ready for bed. Harriet again felt the strong urge to avert her eyes as the others changed. She climbed into bed and wished the others goodnight before drawing her bed curtains.

Hermione came in again a short time later. No one said anything. Harriet felt anxious. After they had gotten so close to her earlier today, still she was getting distant. Outside of her bed curtains, Harriet could hear Hermione getting ready for bed. She rolled over and curled up a little as she heard Hermione give a deep sniff before she pulled her bed curtains closed.

It was an unfortunate blemish on what was otherwise a happy end to an excellent first day. _Oh well, at least things can’t get much worse, after all_ , she thought to herself as she reached up and turned down the oil lamp above her bed. They’d had classes, they would get better at finding their way, and things could only go up from here. But as is so often the case in life, and almost always the case at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, she should have known better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Hesper property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original story and concept by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	5. Kettles and Questions

"One can inflict pain on another person in many ways: some with anger, hatred, or with violence. In one of Life's great ironies, the most overlooked of all methods is neglect. Few things cause as much hurt as the desire of acknowledgement unfulfilled."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

By the end of Harriet's first week at Hogwarts, the best that could be said was that it went quickly. Despite her hopes, things did not improve as it went along. Classes proved just as challenging to find at the end of the week as they did at the beginning. The rest of the classes didn't go as smoothly as she'd hoped either, but not poorly. After their first three courses of History of Magic, Transfiguration and Herbology, they next had Charms, Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Astronomy.

Charms did turn out to be rather enjoyable. Harriet at least found she enjoyed Professor Flitwick, who seemed to have the intelligence of Professor McGonagall, but combined it with the cheery nature of Professor Sprout. He also appeared rather excitable. Indeed he fell off his chair with a squeak when he read Harriet's name off the roster as he took attendance at the start of the first class. He was very encouraging, and Harriet found herself doing pretty well in the class for just the first day.

Perhaps she had not done quite as well as Hermione, but she had done at least as well as Kieran and Marcus, though somewhat better than Ronnie, Lavender and Parvati. Although, as Hermione was the best, she got Ronnie's grumbling ire, not Harriet, something that comforted Harriet in a way she knew she would never admit to Hermione, even if she did manage to become friends with her.

After Charms, Harriet had been looking very forward to Defence Against the Dark Arts. That was until Professor Quirrell started teaching. Harriet wasn't sure exactly how Quirrell had gotten the job, and neither was anyone else after the first lesson. According to Fred and George, the last class he'd taught had been Astronomy, but he'd taken some time off and travelled the world last year before returning and putting in for Defence Against the Dark Arts. He was given the job, as apparently, he'd been the only applicant.

“Aside from Snape," Fred said with a nod towards the Professor that had looked at Harriet just before her scar hurt her very first night at Hogwarts. Harriet shivered looking at him again. He didn't look back at her this time, which Harriet appreciated. If it was him that made her scar prickle and hurt like that, she wasn't that anxious to experience it again.

Whatever Professor Quirrell had been like as an Astronomy professor, he was a complete joke as a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. He started with a question and answer period, in an apparent attempt at bravado to talk about his experiences travelling the world the previous year.

However, as the questions went on, Harriet found him extremely vague about details. For instance, he wouldn't say just what he had done to upset that vampire he claimed to have met in Romania to make him so angry that Quirrell now had to carry garlic with him everywhere he went just in case. And after Hermione pointed out that garlic didn't actually stop vampires, it was merely an allergy they could overcome with exposure and time; he changed the subject quickly to how lovely the cover of their textbook was.

The subject was then changed to his turban, which Parvati said she could tell had been made of fine silk, and had to have been very valuable. Quirrell beamed, and his stutter slightly lessened as he explained how he had received it as a gift from a shaman in an African village after Quirrell had vanquished a zombie for them.

Though again, when Seamus eagerly asked for details about this, instead of answering, Quirrell quickly started talking about the weather, before setting them to reading their textbooks quietly for the rest of the hour. This seemed to greatly annoy Hermione, who had apparently already read and memorised the entire book, so Quirrell gave her an essay to write for extra credit instead, which seemed to cheer her up.

The less than thrilling Defence Against the Dark Arts class was made up for Wednesday night to early Thursday morning by Astronomy. This course was taught by the very pretty blond witch that Harriet had seen talking to Hagrid at their very first meal in the Great Hall after the sorting. She was relatively new to the job, as she'd been hired to replace Quirrell when he went on his tour of the world.

Even more interesting about Professor Sinistra, to Parvati and Lavender at least, was that she was American. This caused considerable delay in getting the class started as Lavender and Parvati immediately began pelting her with questions about life back home. She did at least admit to having twin daughters who were slightly younger than them all, but deflected most other personal questions and soon had them staring into telescopes, creating their star charts.

Harriet found Astronomy quite interesting. It nurtured something deep in her as she looked out into the vastness of space, an adventurous feeling. Like she wanted to see them up close someday, not just tiny little points of light inside a telescope. At the end of class Professor Sinistra looked over their star charts. She gave Harriet very high marks on hers and a warm smile that caused Harriet to blush and then blushed even more at her embarrassment over blushing in the first place.

After class, they all grumbled sleepily as they filed back into their dormitory. Ronnie groaned with glee that their classes would be on the afternoon that day, meaning they could sleep-in. Harriet, Parvati and Lavender all agreed, though Hermione's only response was yanking the curtains shut on her four-poster after turning out her oil lamp.

The other four girls all suspiciously looked at each other. They had all tried to talk to her during the week, trying to get her to lighten up, but she patently refused to speak to any of them.

Harriet was sure she'd heard Hermione crying late the night before, but she had still been too unsure of what to do about it. Harriet changed into her night clothes (which she now self-consciously did from behind her curtains) and wished the other girls goodnight. They returned the wishes, and they all climbed into bed nearly in unison.

As she lay in bed, Harriet lay mulling over all that had happened that week so far. She'd made some of the first friends in her life, and possibly enemies (Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle). She'd gotten through all of her classes so far, except for Potions which she would have on Friday, and was not particularly looking forward to. And she was still unable to break through to Hermione, who had been opening up so much earlier in the week.

Harriet sat upright at a noise from outside her bed curtains. She listened carefully, trying to figure out what it was. All she could hear now was Ronnie's slow breathing, and no other beds were moving, so evidently it had not woken anyone else. Finally, she heard it again, a barely muffled sob. With a sinking feeling, Harriet knew precisely who it was.

Steeling her courage, Harriet finally slowly pulled aside the curtains and slid out of bed. She quietly followed the sniffling, right to Hermione's bed curtains. She took a deep breath and whispered.

“Hermione...?"

The sniffling stopped at once, and she was answered with silence. Harriet gave a carpet-muffled foot stamp of frustration.

"Hermione, come on, I just want to talk..."

Finally, Hermione pulled the curtain back. She had definitely been crying, and she was holding the picture of her parents in her hand. Harriet felt her heart sink even more.

"Oh Hermione," she said softly as the other girl wiped her watery eyes.

Harriet sat on the edge of the bed and hugged Hermione tightly around the shoulders. Hermione didn't say anything in response, merely hugged Harriet tight back. Harriet looked around a little anxiously before she slid onto the bed more and pulled the curtain closed again behind her.

Hermione wiped her eyes more, and they lay back on the bed. Harriet let Hermione cuddle up next to her, resting her head on Harriet's shoulder. As they did, Harriet felt her cheeks get a little warm, and she looked around again nervously, even though she knew no one could see them through the curtains. She bit her lip and just stroked Hermione's hair gently.

“I miss them so much..." Hermione muttered quietly through a sob. Harriet just nodded, trying to think of something to say.

“Ronnie and Parvati and Lavender all get letters from home... they have parents who know this world and how to do things in it... they have owls... they can write and get letters whenever they want..."

Harriet simply nodded, chewing her lip a little. She, of course, didn't have any parents to write to even if she wanted, and she also had that slightly sinking feeling of jealousy every time she saw the owls come flying in delivering letters. Though, she supposed it might have even been a harder feeling for Hermione. To have parents, people she loved but was unable to communicate with them, that must have been very hard indeed.

“Hermione, as—well—as you know I'm not using her for anything... if you want we could go up to the owls tomorrow, and we could send a letter with Hedwig if you wanted... to your parents I mean...?"

Hermione looked up at Harriet and shook her head.

“Oh Harriet, I'm so sorry, I forgot how you don't—"

Harriet quickly shook her head too, looking serious. “No, it's okay Hermione, I'm okay. You didn't upset me. I just want to help."

Hermione's lip trembled, and she hugged Harriet tightly.

“Oh thank you, Harriet, it means so much to me... if there's anything I can do..."

Harriet just rested Hermione's head on her shoulder, when again inspiration struck her.

“There is actually," Harriet said with a little smile.

“What?" Hermione asked, looking slightly apprehensive.

“Sit with us at lunch and class tomorrow," Harriet said quietly and smiled a little more.

Hermione looked up at Harriet with wide eyes of surprise, but finally, she slowly nodded.

“And don't mind Lavender... her heart's in the right place... she's just..."

“Rude," Hermione said bitterly.

“I was going to say she just talks without really thinking about what she's going to say first..."

Hermione shrugged as if to say 'same difference' without really saying so. Harriet fought off an eye roll before another afterthought hit her.

“Oh, and don't mind Ronnie either, she's just got issues she's trying to work through... but she's nice once you get through them."

Hermione didn't respond this time, and Harriet looked down at her.

“So, will you join us?"

Hermione finally slowly nodded.

“Good," Harriet said with a smile and squeezed Hermione a little tighter.

Hermione wiped her eyes a little and stifled a yawn, shuddering as she stretched.

“I think I'm ready for bed now..." Hermione said, now sounding genuinely tired.

Harriet nodded and finally slid out of bed. Hermione climbed back under her covers, and Harriet pulled her bed curtains closed for her. She then tip-toed back across the dormitory to her bed and climbed back in, closing her curtains before getting under the covers. For the first time since their starting night, when Harriet drifted off to sleep, she had a smile on her face.

## * * * *

Hermione was good to her word and did join them for lunch and all their classes that afternoon. Lavender was tactful enough not to mention Hermione's hair. Ronnie didn't talk to Hermione much, but she was at least civil throughout. The boys, in particular, seemed very pleased that Hermione was joining them, and even Neville seemed emboldened, and voluntarily sat by them, though he still asked if it was alright if he did, which it was of course.

After classes were over, Harriet and Hermione both searched for the owlery, and finally found it, where Hedwig happily took off, despite the somewhat hefty letter that Hermione was sending, seemingly glad to have a mission at last. Hermione was slightly embarrassed to note the roost of school owls with the sign "For Student/Faculty Use" meaning she could have sent a letter whenever she wanted, but Harriet said she was still happy to help and happy to finally give Hedwig a worthwhile job. Hermione thanked Harriet over and over again and ultimately became genuinely more cheerful as they made their way back down the stairs.

As they did, they stopped at a door they hadn't seen before. Harriet, who was in an excellent mood by now, and feeling particularly adventurous, tried the handle. It was locked. Suddenly Hermione froze and pulled Harriet away.

"Oh, Harriet, don't! I know where we are, that's the doorway to the third-floor corridor-eek!"

Hermione squeaked, and Harriet spun around to see what had frightened her. Again, seemingly from nowhere, the face of Argus Filch had loomed into view.

"What were you two doing trying to get into that door? That door's off limits!" he said darkly, glowering down at them both.

Harriet and Hermione looked at each other and immediately launched into explanations when another voice came from behind them. Harriet and Hermione turned, and Harriet felt her heart sink more. It wasn't Quirrell coming to their rescue this time. It was Professor Snape.

"What's going on here, Filch?" Professor Snape asked, his dark eyes darting back and forth between the students and Filch, much as Professor Quirrell had done.

"I caught these two trying to get through the door to the third-floor corridor! The one that's off limits!" Filch declared, pointing at Harriet and Hermione accusingly.

Harriet noted several odd things now. As Professor Snape looked at them, his eyes once again caught hers, but this time her scar did not burn. For another, Filch seemed much more respectful of Professor Snape than of Professor Quirrell. Professor Snape turned his black, fathomless eyes back on Filch.

"These are first-year students, Filch; they're not smart enough to know any better. You two, get to dinner at once," Professor Snape barked, and Harriet and Hermione didn't give it another thought. As they ran off, they didn't hear Filch arguing with Professor Snape as he had with Professor Quirrell either.

"I thought we were going to get detention for sure!" Harriet said stopping to catch her breath once they got to the ground floor. Hermione shuddered at the thought.

"I thought we were going to be expelled!" she said breathlessly. Harriet grimaced as that thought took her over too.

"Why didn't Snape punish us? He's supposed to hate any students but his own...?" Harriet asked incredulously, remembering Percy's remarks about him, as well as other dire warnings from other older students, like Fred and George. Despite Ronnie's warning, the twins seemed to be rather reliable sources of information for her.

She didn't know why, but something about that exchange made Harriet reluctant to repeat it to anyone, and Hermione agreed as they made their way back down to the Great Hall. They sat with the usual crowd, though Harriet found herself unable to keep from stealing glances up at Professor Snape as he came in and took his seat next to Professor Quirrell. Harriet didn't know what it was, but yet again, as she watched Professor Snape, she felt her scar prickle still, though it didn't hurt like it had that first night.

It was an odd sense of foreboding, and Harriet didn't like it. It felt like... a warning. She resolved that Potions would be the one class she would not screw up in. And with that, as they got into bed that night, Harriet turned her oil lamp on low, got out her Potions book, and started to read.

## * * * *

The only thing that was good about that Friday it turned out was the letter Harriet got from one of the school owls that morning (Hedwig still having not returned from delivering Hermione's letter). It was from Hagrid, inviting her to tea that afternoon at three. Ronnie immediately volunteered herself to go along too, though Hermione seemed reluctant but agreed when Harriet asked her. Parvati and Lavender, on the other hand, patently refused. Harriet sent back a 'Yes please!' with the owl and felt some joy that she had that at least to look forward to.

It was good she did because Potions class turned out to be one of the odder experiences of her life. She couldn't call it bad, but she most definitely could not call it good. Frustrating would have been a perfect word for it. Not so much for the subject itself, but because of Professor Snape.

They made their way down and unfortunately wound up behind the group of Slytherin students they would be taking the class with. The Slytherin students all gave smug smirks over their shoulders at the group of Gryffindors walking up behind them. Harriet felt herself being filled with even more dread at how this lesson was going to go.

As Harriet watched them, the thin figure of Draco Malfoy was visible between his goons, Crabbe and Goyle. Crabbe smirked back at Kieran as he had on the train, and Kieran returned the dark look, and his fist clenched tighter on his shillelagh. Malfoy, however, had eyes only for Harriet when he stole his glances. However, it wasn't Malfoy that was rankling Harriet at the moment.

"What's that tacky little thing Potter has in her hair?" Pansy Parkinson asked with a laugh as she gave Harriet a dark smirk. Harriet felt herself blush and her head lower.

"Yeah," chimed in the tall, blonde Slytherin girl named Pixie Fanfarró, "I mean really, like anyone wants to see her face with that horrible scar..."

Harriet felt her heart sink as well. She once again wished she didn't have the hair clip. She worked hard to fight the urge to take it out, though felt a little reassured when Ronnie, who again Harriet was walking arm in arm with, squeezed her arm.

"You're one to talk, Parkinson, least she looks like a human, not a pug," piped up another girl's voice from behind her.

Harriet looked around, expecting to see Parvati or Lavender but to her surprise, it was Hermione, who was glaring daggers at both Pansy and Pixie. Pixie paused as if she was going to turn back, but Pansy put her hand on Pixie's arm and shook her head, and instead they merely pulled stupid buck-toothed faces back at Hermione and turned with the rest of the Slytherin group as it moved onwards ahead of them. The Gryffindors were now all looking at Hermione with a mixture of shock, pride, and sympathy.

"What...? She does..." Hermione said sheepishly, her cheeks reddening. She didn't mention anything about the apparent jab about her teeth, however.

Potions class was in a dungeon, and it certainly felt like one when Harriet walked inside. The only light came from very dim candles, stuck in iron wall candelabras and hanging iron chandeliers. The walls were lined with shelves, and all of them bore a myriad of glass bottles and jars full of preserved creatures and body parts, and bubbling liquids that she didn't dare to guess what they were. The room smelled slightly acidic, and it burned Harriet's nose a little, and she wrinkled it in protest to the smell. She did note several other students, even Slytherins, making similar faces, however.

She took a seat at a table with Ronnie and Hermione. Lavender, Parvati and Marcus were at another, and Dean, Seamus, Kieran and Neville at yet another. Harriet immediately flipped open her book and looked around waiting. After a few minutes, Professor Snape finally emerged from a door at the back of the room and strode towards them.

"Settle down," Professor Snape said, though there was no need. The only sounds being made as he entered the room was his shutting the door and his long, black, fluttering robes before he spoke. In an instant, Harriet could tell that this was a teacher not to cross even more than Professor McGonagall if that was possible.

Professor Snape started by calling the roll. As he read off Harriet's name, the usual loud muttering broke out. Harriet lowered her head but then nearly jumped out of her chair as Professor Snape loudly snarled: "Silence!"

Another dead silence filled the room, and Professor Snape went on with the roll call. Harriet and Ronnie looked at each other, bemused. It wasn't that Harriet liked the attention, she nearly hated it. But Professor Snape's reaction was so different to that of all the other teachers so far it was alarming. It wasn't as though Snape was upset they were muttering disruptively; it was more like he was furious they were giving Harriet attention at all.

Professor Snape finished the roll and looked out at the room.

"Now... this, is Potions. This is not Transfiguration, where mere concentration and hand motions can convert something from one thing to another. This is not Charms where merely knowing incantations and wand flicks can get you by.

"This is Potions. It is an art and science in one. Some have a hard time believing this is magic. However, Potions is one of the most dangerous forms of magic there is. Potions is a road to glory, or to death. You can create them to give you great power, or to bring down your enemies. Some of you may have that uncommon ability to be a great potioneer..."

Professor Snape paused, his eyes sweeping the room one more time in a chilling way.

"Though I doubt it," he finished darkly. Harriet shivered a little and heard Ronnie next to her swallow. Hermione was sitting bolt upright in her chair, listening to every single word with rapt attention, as if there was nothing more in the world she wanted than to be a "great potioneer."

"Now," Professor Snape went on again. Who can tell me what potion I would create if I were to add powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harriet looked around the room. Hermione's hand had shot into the air the moment Professor Snape had finished the question, though no one else's had yet. Harriet slowly raised her hand as well. She remembered from her studying last night, it was called the "Draught of Living Death," a potion that sounded so awful Harriet didn't know how she could have forgotten it.

"No one?" Professor Snape asked, not looking anywhere near Harriet and Hermione. "Then who can tell me... where would I go to find a bezoar, and why would I ever want one?"

Again Hermione's hand shot straight up in the air, now even waving a little. Harriet again raised her hand, though more timidly. Beside her, Hermione shot Harriet a small glance and started shaking her hand more eagerly. Harriet felt like lowering her hand again. Though she wanted to prove she knew the answer, she wasn't very sure she wanted Professor Snape to call on her, in case she was wrong, though she was sure she wasn't.

"Tsk tsk..." Professor Snape smirked, looking around the room, his eyes skipping right past Harriet's table. "Then how about the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

Harriet felt a little stumped this time. She remembered reading those names, but she couldn't quite place what made them different. Hermione apparently could though, as she now actually got to her feet in her eagerness to answer the question.

Professor Snape gave the classroom a disapproving look.

"Powdered asphodel and an infusion of wormwood create the potion known as the Draught of Living Death... it is a sleeping potion so powerful there are only two known cures. A bezoar, on the other hand, is a stone found in the stomach of a goat. Goats eat them to help them digest food. However, once done the bezoar develops remarkable healing qualities and will cure most poisons by simply pushing it down the victim's throat. It is one of the few things that will cure someone who has imbibed the Draught of Living Death, along with phoenix tears. And finally, monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. It is also known as aconite."

He paused and looked around at the room disapprovingly. "And why are none of you writing this all down?" he asked darkly.

Harriet rapidly snatched up her quill and parchment and started writing. She felt foolish writing the parts she already knew, but it felt prudent to do so anyway. She felt as though somehow Professor Snape would realise she hadn't as she wrote as fast as she could.

After they had all finished with the notes, Professor Snape walked to the board and waved his wand. The instructions materialised on the board for their potion they were supposed to be brewing that day, which apparently cured boils, and Professor Snape told them curtly to get to work.

It wasn't a terribly tricky potion, Harriet found. She and Hermione worked furiously, while Ronnie grumbled the whole time as she mixed up the number of stirs and the amount of time to boil, or how much they needed to powder their snake fangs.

Despite all the warnings, Harriet didn't find potions all that difficult. It was a lot like all the subjects put in together. You needed concentration and imagination like transfiguration and charms, and you needed a good memory like History of Magic and Astronomy.

About halfway through the class, however, everyone's concentration was more than slightly disrupted when Neville's cauldron melted and spilt down on the floor. Harriet saw the mixture coming and yanked her feet up off the floor. She groaned anxiously as she heard it eating away a little at the feet of her chair, hoping they would hold. Ronnie hadn't been as quick, and it burned a hole in her shoe. Neville on the other hand, who had been covered in the substance, was now himself breaking out in boils, the exact opposite of what the potion was meant to do.

"You fool!" Professor Snape exclaimed as he examined Neville. "You added the porcupine quills before you took the cauldron off the fire. Hospital wing, now. You take him," he said to Seamus who gingerly took Neville's arm and lead him from the dungeon.

He then rounded on Kieran and Dean and took a point each from them for not having stopped Neville from doing his potion incorrectly. Harriet and the other Gryffindors started to protest but he swept his black, dark eyes over them again and they all fell silent at once.

"Continue," he said to the class at large, and looking at each other, the Gryffindors all went back to brewing while the Slytherins all sniggered darkly, though predictably, Professor Snape ignored them.

Near the end of class, Professor Snape finally went around inspecting all the remaining students' cauldrons. And yet again, he completely skipped over Harriet's cauldron as he passed. Harriet looked at him, completely bewildered. Her potion had looked almost as good as Hermione's, and even better than Malfoy's, who Professor Snape used to demonstrate to the class of the 'proper' way the potion should look. He even smiled at Malfoy before he finally dismissed them.

"Well, that was lousy," Harriet muttered under her breath. Hermione nodded in agreement, though the rest of their little group merely shot her dirty looks. Professor Snape had criticised all their potions, again, except for Hermione's and Harriet's. However, even though he hadn't looked at her cauldron, Harriet had still gotten full marks for the day.

At just before three o clock, Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione made their way down to Hagrid's hut in the grounds. Ronnie was nearly bouncing with excitement, while Hermione looked far from delighted. Hagrid lived right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, which Harriet suspected was part of Hermione's fears. The giant crossbow that was propped up by the door didn't help this ominous setting. Ronnie looked at it excitedly, but Hermione shrank away a little.

As they reached Hagrid's hut, Harriet stepped boldly up to the front door and knocked. Hermione gave a loud squeak and ducked behind Ronnie as a lively, deep barking came from the other side of the door.

"Down Fang, down!" shouted Hagrid's booming voice and finally the door opened a crack. The broad, bushy-haired face of Hagrid peered between the crack in the door and beamed down at them all.

"Oh, there you are! Was wonderin' when yeh were gonna be showin' up."

"Hi Hagrid," Harriet said, though she gave the large boarhound he was holding back by the collar a slightly nervous look.

"Well there, brought some friends eh? Marvellous, come on in," Hagrid said and stepped aside.

Harriet entered, with Ronnie and Hermione in tow behind her. The hut turned out to only be one room. There was the smell of smoke and the sound of boiling water from a copper pot over the fire in the corner. Smoked hams and fresh pheasants hung from the rafters, and there was a significant bed covered in an old looking quilt in the corner, with a little table and some wooden chairs around it.

Harriet's apprehension about Fang proved utterly unfounded. As soon as Hagrid let go, Fang buried his nose under Harriet's arm, and somehow automatically Harriet found herself hugging him around his massive neck and smiling. Even Ronnie scratched behind Fang's ears, and Hermione looked a little relieved.

"'ave a seat, eh? Make yerselves comfterble," Hagrid said as he poured the boiling water from the kettle into a giant teapot and set out some cups and a tray of rock cakes.

"These are my friends, Ronnie and Hermione," Harriet said to introduce her friends. Hagrid smiled down at them and Hermione, seeing the smile, finally seemed to lighten up entirely.

"Charmed," Hagrid said warmly and chuckled at Ronnie.

"Now you, Miss Weasley... coulda spotted you out as one without even hearin' yer name with that hair. Got yer older brothers' nose too. Spent more time chasin' those twin brothers of yers from the Forest..." Hagrid said trailing off into a chuckle, and Ronnie smiled sheepishly, glad Hagrid seemed to have enough tact not to mention her name.

"And you there Hermione, Harriet wouldn't have needed ter introduce you, neither. I've heard all about you already too. Not one of the staff hasn't been mentionin' you durin' meals this week, makin' quite the good impression yeh'are."

Hermione went as red as Ronnie's hair but smiled in a slightly self-satisfied way.

"Thank you, Hagrid," she said and actually reached for a rock cake, of which Hagrid apparently had taken the name too literally, as Harriet heard a slight crunching noise as Hermione bit into it and winced. Harriet made a mental note to dip her cake into her tea to attempt to soften it before eating.

Hagrid poured their tea and smiled, listening to the three girls' tales of their first day. When they told him about their run-ins with Filch, Hagrid scowled.

"That git, eh? Keep 'opin' Dumbledore'll come to his senses and sack the evil old wart. Follows me everywhere when I'm in the castle, same with that ruddy cat of his... liable to introduce 'er to Fang if I ever get him into or her out of the castle..."

At this proclamation, Harriet and Ronnie beamed at each other, though Hermione looked a little troubled again.

"And then this morning we had Potions... it was... weird..." Harriet said, reflecting back on Professor Snape's seemingly pretending Harriet did not exist.

"Yeah, well, you get that a lot in Professer Snape's classes. Not many, ‘side from his own students, as like him much, I'd say," Hagrid agreed.

"Well, he is very knowledgeable. He did know what Neville had done wrong with his potion in an instant..." Hermione said quietly. Harriet and Ronnie both shot her dirty looks.

"Yeah, then he took a point from Dean and Kieran each for no reason at all..." Ronnie muttered, darkly.

"Hagrid..." Harriet started with a mixture of curiosity and worry. "How does Professor Snape usually show how much he dislikes someone...?"

Hagrid looked at her, bemused.

"Eh? Why do yeh ask? Hasn't been bullyin' ya 'as 'e?" Hagrid asked, his temper seeming to rise at the idea.

"N-no," Harriet said, remembering Dudley's tail. "He just, well... he ignores me..." Harriet said, feeling very foolish saying it. The surprised looks that Ronnie and Hermione shot her at that proclamation didn't help.

"Ignores yeh? Heh, there's right many students who'd give their wand hands for Professor Snape to ignore them," Hagrid chuckled. It didn't help Harriet's worries.

"I... well... it just... even if it was criticism... but he didn't even look at my potion... he just walked straight past from Ronnie to Hermione..."

Ronnie was now furrowing her brow as if trying to remember. Hermione suddenly had a look of comprehension.

"You know... I did notice that Harriet..." she said thoughtfully, and Harriet felt a little relieved.

Hagrid didn't answer, merely poured them all more tea. As he did, Harriet finally noticed a piece of newspaper on the table too, the word "Gringotts" jumping out at her. She picked it up as Hagrid was busy and read.

It was an article from the wizarding newspaper Hagrid had been reading the day of Harriet's eleventh birthday, the day Hagrid had taken her into Diagon Alley. The article apparently was about a break-in at Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Harriet read on, wondering what could have happened to the person who'd broken in. But possibly, nothing had happened. The perpetrator hadn't seemed to have been caught but hadn't stolen anything either.

Harriet looked back at the beginning of the article, and suddenly something jumped out at her she'd missed the first time. The break-in had happened on the 31st of July, Harriet's birthday, the day she and Hagrid had been at Gringotts.

"Hagrid!" Harriet exclaimed. "This break-in at Gringotts! It happened the same day you, and I were there!"

Hagrid spun around, smashing the tea-pot accidentally on the wall as he did.

"Eh?" Hagrid asked, looking suddenly nervous. "Oh, y-yeah, that," He went on, evasively. "Mysterious that."

Harriet looked up at Hagrid, disbelieving. "But, it might have gone on while we were there... we might have seen the person who did it!"

Hagrid didn't answer, only busied himself with cleaning up the tea and shattered porcelain. Harriet looked at the clipping again. According to the article, the vault that had been broken into had been emptied earlier in the day. She glanced up at Hagrid who still wasn't meeting her eye, and glanced back at Hermione and Ronnie, who were looking at her curiously.

Hagrid sent them off a little while later for dinner, their pockets stuffed with rock cakes they only took out of courtesy.

"Hagrid was hiding something... the article said the vault had been emptied earlier that day... when Hagrid and I went to Gringotts, he stopped at a vault and took a package out of it, it was the only thing in the vault. That must have been what the thief was after... It's at Hogwarts now, because Hagrid said this is the only place safer than Gringotts..." Harriet said aloud, half to Ronnie and Hermione, and half to herself.

"But, what do you think it is?" Hermione asked curiously.

Harriet shrugged. "No idea... Hagrid wouldn't tell me anything about it. 'Top secret' he said, 'Hogwarts business...' must be something very valuable," Harriet said, her curiosity and imagination running away with her now. And somehow, Harriet had a growing suspicion as to what may be hiding somewhere down the third-floor corridor on the right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk and Kieran O'Brien property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Pixie Fanfarró property of Hasbro
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	6. Broomsticks and Duels

“At no time in a young man's life will he be more prone to utter stupidity as when he first notices a young lady."

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Things finally began to improve as Harriet moved into her second week at Hogwarts. Now that Hermione had joined their circle of friends, the dorm was a much happier and friendlier place than before. They went to meals together, walked to classes together, and at night they gossiped about classes, teachers, and even now and then indulged Parvati and Lavender in their usual favourite topics: boys, clothes and hair.

While she was happy now that they were all becoming friends, Harriet did have to note that she was beginning to feel not quite as close to Lavender and Parvati as she was with Ronnie, in particular, but even with Hermione. She found she laughed much easier when she was around Ronnie, and enjoyed studying a lot more with Hermione. This latter friendship she was finding incredibly useful, as she was bound and determined now to win Professor Snape's approval in Potions, no matter what it took.

Along with those aspects, Harriet found having this group of friends had numerous other advantages as well. One of which was they managed to find all their classes much quicker than before. There was usually at least one person who remembered what turn to take at a particular location or a specific landmark they had to look for in the castle.

There was yet another reason for this, however; travelling in a group seemed to help offer excellent protection against the Slytherins. Between Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Parkinson and Fanfarró, Harriet rarely had a single meal in the Great Hall that wasn't marred slightly by Parkinson and Fanfarró yelling out some taunt or other, usually to raucous laughter from the other Slytherins around them. And she hardly ever got down a single corridor without Malfoy saying something snide and rude to her.

At least with her friends around her, Harriet had people to deflect some of the taunts and fire some back. She was starting to get good at them on her own, but knowing she had friends who had her back was a tremendous help.

The hardest one to deflect however was Malfoy. His tactic was apparently popping out at her at odd times in the corridors, which was even more surprising considering he always had the large and oafish Crabbe and Goyle in tow.

“I don't know why you even bother in Potions like you do, Potter," Malfoy taunted one particular Tuesday afternoon in the corridor. “You and Granger... you both lack all the proper qualifications to be good in the class, like not being a Gryffindor for instance."

Harriet ignored him and brushed past, trying to block out Crabbe and Goyle's stupid guffawing as she sped up down the corridor. The worst part was how he seemed to have the knack of doing things like this whenever she was alone.

Another thing that kept intruding on Harriet's mind during the incessant jabbing sessions between Gryffindors and Slytherins was the seemingly deep animosity between Kieran and Crabbe. Every time they were in each other's presence, Kieran would glare with the utmost contempt at Crabbe, while Crabbe would merely smirk back in his stupid way. She wanted to ask Kieran what it was, but every time she worked up the courage to do so, by the time she saw him limping along but smiling warmly, she lost her nerve. She didn't want to dampen that smile by talking about something so naturally unpleasant.

The other thing she was growing to hate about the Slytherins was how they kept seeming to make everything she was supposed to find fun become a nightmare. The main one in their second week would be Flying lessons that Thursday, and of course, the Gryffindors and the Slytherins would be taking it together.

If half the stories were real, Malfoy sounded like an excellent flyer. Though given his usual smug demeanour, Harriet sincerely doubted more than half of the stories, which seemed to get wilder with every overly loud retelling in the Great Hall. However, Seamus said that from what he could tell Malfoy did at least know how to fly, and pretty well, albeit probably not quite good enough to dodge helicopters.

Seamus, it turned out, was the only member of their little group who had any experience in broom flying. Hermione and Marcus were Muggle-Borns and so had not grown up around them. Harriet and Dean had been raised as if they were Muggle-Borns, so they had no experience either. Parvati and Lavender just had no interest in them whatsoever.

Ronnie, on the other hand, had at least flown a broomstick before with her eldest brothers Bill and Charlie a few times, but Fred and George apparently refused to let her play Quidditch with them, so she didn't have much experience at flying either. Neville had never been allowed to touch one by his grandmother; though Harriet had a feeling Neville's grandmother may have had a point. And finally, Kieran merely pointed to his leg: "Gettin' on the broom's a treat, as is flyin' it, but landin's the hard part, see."

Harriet just didn't think she could bear it if she made a fool of herself while flying in front of the Slytherins, particularly Malfoy, Parkinson and Fanfarró. While she didn't get the impression the latter two, in particular, cared all that much about flying, she knew they would still eat up a chance to taunt Harriet even more like it was chocolate.

Thursday morning before the lesson, however, produced one of the first days Harriet felt her patience with Hermione being tested. Just as nervous as Neville was about flying, Hermione had read the book “Quidditch Through the Ages," thinking it would give her useful pointers, and was now telling everyone all about it at breakfast. Harriet's nerves were high enough already, without Hermione listing all the ways someone could get hurt while flying a broom. Fortunately, the post arrived which distracted Hermione completely.

The group all watched as Neville looked up with an excited face before an owl plopped down in front of him with a small package. He took it from the owl, smiling.

“It's from Gran!" Neville said before opening the package and taking out a small glass ball full of white smoke.

“A Remembrall!" Neville exclaimed with excitement. "It turns red if you've forgotten something!" he said holding it out to show Harriet. As he did, the Remembrall instantly turned red.

“Um, I think you have forgotten something..." Harriet muttered.

Neville looked at the Remembrall, dumbfounded.

“But... how am I supposed to remember what I forgot...?"

However, Neville was distracted from remembering what he'd forgotten by Malfoy, who apparently had come around behind them and snatched the Remembrall from Neville's hand.

“Give it back, Malfoy!" Ronnie, who had been looking on, demanded as she got to her feet. So did Harriet, Dean, Seamus, Marcus and Kieran, granted Kieran much more slowly.

Before anyone could even say one word, however, Professor McGonagall was on the scene.

“What's going on here," she asked with a disapproving look at all of them.

“I was just curious," Malfoy said and lazily handed the Remembrall back to Neville before he, Crabbe, and Goyle slouched away.

It was another moment that Harriet felt secretly grateful that Professor McGonagall was head of their house. She had a nose for trouble and seemed able to pop up just when things were on the verge of fights. While she often looked just as disapproving of the Gryffindors involved as the Slytherins, she was at least better than Professor Snape, who always took the Slytherins' side without question.

Finally, that afternoon Harriet and her fellow Gryffindor first years (Kieran was coming along to cheer everyone else on) made their way down to the grounds for their flying lesson. The brooms were already laid out when they got there, more than enough for all the Gryffindors and Slytherins it seemed. The brooms looked much the worse for wear, and from all the stories Harriet had heard from Fred and George in particular, they were.

The Slytherins, of course, were already there. As the Gryffindors approached, Harriet saw Malfoy's face break into a smug smirk.

“Who wants to put five galleons down on Longbottom breaking a limb?" Malfoy drawled lazily to the rest of the group of Slytherins.

“I'll take that bet," said the other tall black boy, Blaise Zabini, who was also smirking at Neville, who swallowed.

“Arm, you reckon?" Malfoy asked, still looking bored.

Blaise considered Neville for a moment. “Leg."

“You know Blaise... I don't think you should risk being on a broom either... you'll break a nail or something, and we all know what a disaster that would be!" Dean called towards Zabini who glowered.

“Yeah, and don't look so angry, pretty boy, you'll get frown lines!" Parvati taunted too.

Zabini opened his mouth to retort (Malfoy merely looked mildly amused at the taunts, apparently not caring to defend Zabini in the slightest) when a whistle blew.

They all turned to see an older witch striding towards them. Her hair was grey, and she had a hawkish, alert face as she surveyed them all.

“Hello class, my name is Madame Hooch, and I am your flying instructor. Follow my instructions, and we will get all of you flying by the end of the class. Now, everyone take your place by a broomstick. Hurry, hurry!" She said impatiently, watching all the students move into place.

“Now, stick out your wand hand over your broom and say ‘Up!'"

Harriet held out her hand, looked down at her broom and said: "Up!"

Her broom sprang up into her hand. Looking around, she saw numerous others had as well: Dean, Seamus, and Ronnie in particular. Most everyone else's, however, had only gotten about half way before falling back to the ground. Hermione's had merely rolled over once while Neville's hadn't even budged.

Looking across at the Slytherins, Harriet was disappointed to see that Malfoy's broom had also responded to his command. Harriet did shoot a smirk at Parkinson and Fanfarró, whose brooms hadn't jumped up either, though she also noted that Dora Flamel's had also leapt up to her hand, though she seemed as utterly indifferent to this as she had about being sorted into Slytherin.

Madame Hooch bustled about the group now, helping the students whose brooms had not responded get their brooms off the ground, and showed them all how to mount their brooms. Harriet couldn't help but smirk at Malfoy who was being told off by Madame Hooch for having a "very improper mounted grip" on his broom.

“Now that you're all mounted, on my whistle you will all lean forward slightly and kick off with your feet lightly, to only hover a few feet over the ground before leaning back and landing softly. On my whistle, one, two—"

In an apparent fit of nerves, Neville didn't wait for the whistle. He kicked off early and nearly rocketed up into the air.

“Get down here now!" Madame Hooch called, but it was too late. Panicked, Neville slipped off his broom and landed after a fifteen-foot fall with a sickening thud and immediately let out a cry of pain. Madame Hooch ran forward and began examining Neville, white-faced.

“Just a broken wrist, boy, Madame Pomfrey will have you patched up in moments, come on; we'll get you to the hospital wing."

Madame Hooch rounded on the rest of the class.

“If any of you touch those brooms I'll have you expelled faster than you can say 'Snitch'!" she declared, her yellow eyes blazing before she started helping the teary-eyed Neville up to the school.

“Told you it'd be the arm, pay up Zabini," Malfoy said smugly. Zabini spluttered in protest.

“That wasn't the arm! That was the wrist!"

“Same difference, Blaise, pay up."

Harriet glowered, along with the rest of the Gryffindors.

“You're sick, Malfoy, you know that?"

Malfoy grinned at Harriet and shrugged.

“It was a simple bet... neither of us made Longbottom act like an idiot and break his arm... oh look!" Malfoy said, looking down and crouching, standing back up holding Neville's Remembrall.

“Give that back, Malfoy," Marcus snarled now, his temper obviously flaring.

“No, I don't think I will... I think I'll leave it someplace easy to find. Up a tree for instance? Or maybe on top of the Astronomy tower?" Malfoy smirked, getting on his broom and kicking off. From what she could see, Malfoy hadn't been lying about being a good flyer. He quickly darted to the top of the nearest tree, hovering about it and smirking down at the Gryffindors.

Harriet wasn't sure precisely what spurred it, but before she or anyone else could say anything, she had swung her leg up over her broomstick and kicked off too.

The realisation came to her in a moment: she was a good flyer too. Her broomstick responded to her slightest movements as she shot towards Malfoy, full tilt. The wind whistled past her ears, and her hair flapped behind her head, exhilaration running through her. It felt so natural to her as if she'd been born doing it.

Malfoy looked dumbfounded as Harriet rocketed up towards him. He managed to dodge just in time as Harriet skidded to a stop nearly ten feet higher than Malfoy.

“Give it back Malfoy, or you'll end up with a broken limb too," Harriet said, her self-confidence increased a hundredfold now she was on the broomstick.

She didn't know what it was, but something told her only too plainly, she was already a better flyer than Malfoy. And to her even greater delight, Malfoy looked slightly nervous, and as if he had also made a similar assessment.

“Oh yeah, Potter?" he said back with an attempt at bravado.

“Yeah, it's just you and me up here, Malfoy. Afraid now your bodyguards aren't here to keep you safe?" Harriet asked back, taunting Malfoy now. Malfoy glared at her and spun pointing away.

“Well then, Potter, let's see how good you are... catch!"

And without another moment's hesitation, Malfoy drew his arm back and threw the Remembrall as hard as he could. Harriet acted instinctively, ducking low to the broom and rocketing past Malfoy as fast as she could after the Remembrall. She kept her focus on it as it started the downward part of its arc. She followed it, trying to keep her mind on both the Remembrall and the quickly onrushing ground.

Finally, Harriet was close enough; she stretched out and snatched the ball from mid-air. She then yanked up hard on the broom handle just in time to skim over the grass, feeling it brush the tips of her shoes before she got airborne again, turning around and setting down lightly on the ground.

At that moment, Harriet noticed several things at once. She first saw her fellow Gryffindors running towards her, whooping and yelling. Ronnie, in particular, looked beside herself with excitement. She also noticed Malfoy, looking livid with the other Slytherins, aside from Flamel and the Japanese girl Miyazaki, who were off by themselves talking, apparently indifferent to the entire event that had just happened.

The next thing she became aware of however was the Gryffindors had stopped running towards her and now looked terrified. And immediately after that, she felt a firm, tight hand on her shoulder.

“Harriet Potter!" exclaimed the all too familiar voice of Professor Minerva McGonagall.

“Never in all my years...!" Professor McGonagall went on and started pulling Harriet towards the school. Harriet stole a glance back at her friends, who all looked thoroughly miserable.

She was going to be expelled, she just knew it. It was back to the Dursleys with her, off to Stonewall; back to second-hand clothes dyed grey. At least Dudley would be at Smeltings.

Professor McGonagall nearly dragged her up into the school, and down several corridors. She stopped at random classrooms and peered inside them, apologising to the professors teaching and still she didn't say a word to Harriet. Somehow, Harriet was starting to get suspicious. If she was being expelled, this didn't seem like what Professor McGonagall would be doing. She would be taking her straight to Dumbledore, wouldn't she...?

Finally, they ended up in the Charms corridor. Professor McGonagall knocked on Professor Flitwick's door. A much older Gryffindor student opened the door, and Professor McGonagall stuck her head inside.

“Professor Flitwick, might I borrow Wood for a few minutes?"

Now Harriet felt her sense of fear rising again. Maybe “Wood" was a cane Professor McGonagall was going to use on her...

To her surprise, however, another older Gryffindor student walked out. He was tall and broad-shouldered, but looked fit, with short, buzzed hair and keen, alert eyes. His eyes darted back and forth between Professor McGonagall and Harriet, bemused. As he looked down at Harriet, she felt her cheeks get involuntarily warm.

“Wood, this is Harriet Potter," Professor McGonagall said simply before turning to Harriet. "Potter, this is Oliver Wood, your new Quidditch Captain."

Both Harriet and Oliver spun looking up at Professor McGonagall.

“What?" they both asked in unison. Professor McGonagall smiled smugly.

“Wood, there may not have been trials yet, but Potter here is your new seeker."

“S-seeker..." Wood said, stammering. Professor McGonagall took the Remembrall from Harriet's hand and handed it to Wood.

“She caught that two feet off the ground after a fifty-foot dive and stayed on the broom to a perfect landing, Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it—her father couldn't have done it! That was your first time on a broomstick wasn't it, Potter?"

Harriet nodded, while Wood was looking at Harriet as if she was all his Christmases and birthdays come at once.

“M-my father...?" she asked quietly.

“Yes, Potter. He was a seeker for Gryffindor when he was at Hogwarts too. He would be so proud of you..." Professor McGonagall said with a satisfied smile. Harriet felt herself swell with emotions she'd never really had before, was it pride?

“James Potter wasn't just a seeker!" Wood exclaimed looking shocked. "James Potter's a legend!" Wood interjected before turning to Harriet. "Have you ever seen a Quidditch match, Potter? No, I suppose not. Well, she'll need a proper broomstick too, Professor, a Nimbus 2000 at the very least, can't have her on those old school brooms..."

“Oh I'm sure Professor Dumbledore will be open to bending the First Year rule just this once... after all... it has been a century since a first year made a house Quidditch team," Professor McGonagall said smiling before turning her austere look on Harriet once more.

“I want regular reports of hard practice from Wood about you Potter, or I may change my mind about this..." she said sternly, though somehow, through the look, Harriet was very sure she saw the hint of a twinkle in Professor McGonagall's eye.

## * * * *

“You're putting me on..." Ronnie asked in disbelief. Harriet shook her head.

“Nope, cross my heart!" Harriet replied, excitedly.

Ronnie squealed with excitement and clapped her hands. “But first years never get on house teams! And seeker!" Ronnie gushed more, still looking awestruck.

Hermione gave a slight eye-roll. “It's just a game, Ronnie, and I wouldn't recommend letting this go to your head, Harriet. You got lucky that you didn't get punished and you know it. Had it been Madame Hooch..."

Harriet hung her head a little. Hermione was right of course, Harriet had dodged a huge bullet, and she knew it. But, that was no reason not to be excited, was it?

“Oh come on Hermione! I mean okay she wasn't _supposed_ to do that but what was she supposed to have done? You know Malfoy would have stuck it somewhere and got back to the ground before Madame Hooch got back so don't even say it!" Ronnie said, putting in the last part quickly to cut off Hermione who looked as though she'd been about to protest more. Hermione glowered a little and resumed eating her dinner. Harriet merely sighed and looked at the head table.

Professor McGonagall was chatting discretely with Dumbledore, and Harriet felt a little bit of happiness. Maybe she was asking him now if Harriet could have a broom, even though she was a first-year. She was distracted however by Fred and George appearing at her shoulders as they often seemed to do.

“Brilliant!" Fred whispered in Harriet's right ear.

“Wood told us, we're the beaters for the team," George whispered in the other.

“Can't wait to see you in action, Harriet. Wood was almost crying; he was so happy!" Fred said before they excused themselves in search again of their friend, Lee Jordan.

The rest of dinner passed well enough. Hermione seemed to drop her quest to make Harriet feel ashamed of what she'd done, and the three headed back to Gryffindor tower together. They only just got out of the Great Hall and away from the teachers when an all too familiar and entirely unwelcome voice drawled behind her.

“Slippery, aren't you, Potter...? Getting out of being expelled like that, you really should have been in our house you know? Even for a half-blood..."

Harriet rounded on Malfoy and his cronies.

“Oh shove off, Malfoy," she spluttered, doing her best to look braver than she felt. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled darkly, and Malfoy simply smirked.

“I warned you about that temper, Potter... it'll get you into trouble someday... just like it did for your blood traitor father and your Mudblood moth—"

At the word "Mudblood," Ronnie had gasped in shocked protest, but before he could finish what he was saying, Malfoy was cut off as a hand spun him around from behind and grabbed him by the front of his robes. In a moment of shock, Harriet realised it was Marcus, with Dean, Seamus and Kieran close behind, all of them looking just as angry.

“Say that again, Malfoy..." Marcus snarled, looking livid.

Malfoy spluttered a little in shock, and Crabbe and Goyle looked too surprised to react. Finally, Malfoy got his wits back and glowered as Crabbe and Goyle caught up, pulling Marcus off him. They were still too close to the teachers in the Great Hall to get into a real fight, and despite their dim-wittedness, even Crabbe and Goyle seemed to be aware of the fact they were outnumbered.

“You want a fight, Van Der Lakk...?" Malfoy asked, straightening the front of his robes.

“Anytime..." Marcus snarled, breathing heavily as he tugged his arms out of Crabbe and Goyle's grasps.

“Duel then... tonight at midnight... trophy room...?" Malfoy asked, again in his bored voice.

“You're on..." Marcus declared, looking like he was getting his composure back.

“Who'll be your second...?" Malfoy asked, his sneer starting to return.

Marcus looked confused a bit when Harriet noticed something odd. Seamus nudged Dean in the ribs and gave a little head-nod in Harriet's direction. A tiny flicker of comprehension seemed to come to Dean's face, and he stepped forward.

“Me," Dean said in an overly loud voice. As he did, Harriet couldn't help but notice his eyes kept darting in her direction. Malfoy merely responded with a raised eyebrow.

“Alright then... I'll go with..." he turned to Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. "Crabbe," he said, still sounding bored.

“Fine, tonight at midnight then, trophy room," Marcus reiterated.

Malfoy merely nodded and smirked before heading off towards the Slytherin dorms. The little group of Gryffindors was now looking at Marcus and Dean in disbelief.

“A duel!?" Hermione exclaimed incredulously. "Are you insane!"

Marcus didn't respond, merely glowered at all of them and headed off towards Gryffindor Tower on his own. Dean gave Harriet another glance before he, Seamus, and Kieran all headed off as well. Harriet watched them in disbelief.

“What was that about?" Harriet asked. Ronnie, meanwhile, was also looking just as angry as Marcus had been.

“How could he...?" Ronnie muttered, darkly, looking off in the direction Malfoy and his cronies had gone.

“I know!" Hermione declared, looking in the opposite direction after the Gryffindor boys. “They're going to get caught and lose all of those points I won for Gryffindor house!"

“Not them!" Ronnie said, exasperated. “Malfoy! Do you even know what that word means?!"

“What, ‘Mudblood'?" Harriet asked. Ronnie glowered even more angrily.

“Yes! It's a horrible slur against Muggle-Borns... ‘dirty blood', that's what Malfoy thinks of people like you," she said looking at Hermione, “and Marcus... and your mother..." Ronnie explained; her ears red as beets, saying the last bit to Harriet. Now, Hermione finally looked a little troubled, and Harriet felt her temperature rising as well.

“Well, still... getting into a fight and being out of bed after hours..."

“Well, I get why Marcus got upset then... but why did Seamus have Dean jump-in like that?" Harriet asked, voicing her biggest curiosity as they started off as well towards Gryffindor Tower. Hermione gave an exasperated sigh.

“He fancies you, Harriet!"

Harriet spluttered a little. “Wha-what?!" she exclaimed in shock.

“Yes, he's been fairly quiet about it, but he's not as subtle as he'd like..." Hermione explained as they walked along. Ronnie was looking oddly distracted, almost purposefully at this discussion.

“I'll say... I had no idea..." Harriet said, utterly unsure of what to do now. Dean was going to get into a fight because he fancied her. No, he was getting into a fight to try and impress her. Harriet glowered a little.

“We have to put a stop to this, you're right, Hermione," Harriet said, finally. Hermione gave a curt nod. They both turned and looked at Ronnie, who looked back and forth between them, looking awkward before she finally sighed.

“Fine..."

## * * * *

In the common room that night, Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all waited. They were sitting in the soft chairs by the fire, which was burning low, waiting for the sound of Marcus and Dean leaving their dormitory. They hadn't mentioned it to Parvati and Lavender, not wanting word to spread too far.

Harriet was still trying to figure out what was upsetting her more. Was it Malfoy for having called Harriet's mother something so horrible, Marcus for deciding to start a fight over it, or Dean for being stupid enough to think Harriet was dim enough to be impressed by him getting into a fight too? Ronnie, on the other hand, looked as though she was merely along for the ride as she sat in her armchair, staring at the fire.

Finally, at around eleven thirty, there came the sound of feet coming down the staircase to the boys' dormitories. All three girls tensed at once and looked over the tops of their chairs as Marcus and Dean finally walked in. They made it about halfway across the common room before Hermione finally spoke up.

“You two are unbelievable..." She muttered in exasperation. Marcus and Dean both looked like they had nearly jumped out of their skins.

“Hermione!? You scared the daylights out of me!" Marcus exclaimed trying to catch his breath. Dean was doubled over, his hands on his knees.

“Are you two seriously going to go through with this?" Harriet asked, hearing her annoyance in her voice.

The two boys looked slightly abashed before they both looked at each other and seemed to steel their reserve once more and nod.

“Yes," they both said at once and started for the portrait hole again. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione followed them.

“Okay, come on guys I mean, I'm right pissed off at Malfoy too, but Harriet and Hermione do have a point..." Ronnie finally chimed in, though without quite the same resolve as Harriet or Hermione. The two boys ignored them and finally stepped through the portrait hole. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione continued to follow.

“You're going to get caught!" Hermione declared as the portrait hole closed behind them.

“Please," Harriet said, trying to sound reasonable.

“I'm not chickening out of a fight with Malfoy..." Marcus muttered as he started off towards the trophy room.

“And I'm not abandoning someone when I've already agreed to be a second."

“You didn't even know what a second was until Seamus told you about it after you'd already agreed to be one!" Hermione hissed, trying to keep her voice down now.

Dean looked at her sharply and seemed about to retort when he caught Harriet's eye. She glared at him even more viciously, crossing her arms and the words seemed to die in his throat.

“You two mark my words... you'll be caught, and you're liable to be expelled! Come on girls; we're going ba—"

Hermione trailed off as she looked back at the portrait hole. Harriet looked too and groaned. The Fat Lady was gone; there was no way for them to get back in.

“Now what are we going to do!?" Hermione asked, stamping her foot in frustration.

“Wait here until the Fat Lady returns?" Marcus suggested before he and Dean started off again.

The three girls looked at each other for just a moment, before they too started off after the two boys. Hermione kept hissing warnings at them, and they were both looking more and more annoyed with every step.

Suddenly, Dean froze and held out a hand and shushed them all. Harriet listened and could hear it too. It was a soft snuffling noise.

“Mrs Norris?" Ronnie asked, looking nervous.

However, it wasn't Mrs Norris; it was Neville. He was asleep on the floor, and snoring softly. They all looked at each other.

“Do we wake him...?" Hermione asked, nervously. Marcus chewed the side of his lip in thought before shaking his head.

“N-Nah... we'll let him sleep... we'll wake him when it's over... come on."

They quietly tip-toed past Neville and continued on their way to the trophy room. Finally, just before midnight, they arrived, looking around nervously. It appeared that Malfoy had not yet come.

“"Maybe he chickened out...?" Asked Dean, sounding slightly hopeful.

“No..." Harriet muttered, shaking her head as the realisation hit her. "You were set up..."

Almost on cue, there came a shuffling sound from the next room.

“Keep sniffing my sweet... they have to be around here somewhere..."

It was Filch and Mrs Norris. They all exchanged one worried look before Dean and Marcus darted for the door opposite them, while Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione headed for the other. Both doors exited the trophy room into corridors, they knew, and while they didn't know precisely where the passages led, they knew it was away from Filch. The three crept out the other door into the corridor, and headed in the direction they hoped was Gryffindor Tower.

They finally put some reasonable distance behind them when they ran into another obstacle. A door in front of them burst open and Peeves, the Poltergeist, popped out looking very pleased with himself about something he had undoubtedly just done to the classroom he'd just left. He stopped as he saw them, looking even more delighted.

“Oooooh, ickle firsties out of bed! Up to mischief, eh? Should be in bed at this hour, you should..." Peeves asked, his lips curling most unpleasantly.

“Please, Peeves," Harriet pleaded, looking over her shoulder, watching for Filch.

“Big trouble you'll be in if Filchy finds you..."

“He's after us right now Peeves! He's just back there!" Harriet went on. “We, we were trying to mess up the trophy room to make him have to clean it!" Harriet finished in a moment of inspiration. Peeves eyed them shrewdly.

“Messing with Filchy, eh...? Tut, tut... what wonderful misbehaviour..."

“Please, do us a favour, Peeves, hide us and smash some suits of armour to pull Filch off our trail or we won't be able to make more mischief too later!" Harriet said quickly; sure she could hear the sound of Filch approaching. Peeves looked positively giddy.

“Oh yes, hide in here," he said pointing to a door before zooming off down the corridor in the opposite direction Filch would be coming from, creating a cacophony of noise from smashing suits of armour as he went. Harriet exhaled in relief and tried the door handle. It was locked.

“That little!" Harriet exclaimed, but Hermione strode forward and tapped the handle with her wand.

“Alohamora!" she said, and the door clicked open. They quickly bustled inside and shut the door behind them.

After a few moments, they heard Filch bustling along, yelling curses after Peeves before he moved off into the distance. Harriet let out a sigh of relief, and she and Hermione turned, leaning back against the door. They looked over at Ronnie and saw that she was trembling. As Harriet looked up, she saw why.

They were face to face with a giant, black, three-headed dog. It was as tall as the ceiling, its yellow eyes were keen and alert, as each of the three heads focused on one of the three girls. Its three sets of lips were starting to curl into snarls, and each head began to growl. It seemed they had surprised it just as much as it had now surprised them.

Harriet didn't hesitate. She grabbed white-faced handle and flung the door open. She grabbed Ronnie by the back of her robe and tugged her out as she and Hermione threw themselves from the room. There was a cacophony of barks from behind them as Harriet kicked the door shut. Ronnie finally came to her senses, and they all ran as fast as they could, not stopping until they'd finally reached Gryffindor Tower. As they arrived, they saw Neville was gone, and the Fat Lady was back.

“More of you out of bed, what is—?”

“Pig snout!" Harriet called

The Fat Lady merely swung forward and they toppled inside, panting heavily. Harriet looked up and saw that Dean and Marcus had already gotten back, and by the looks of things, they'd let Neville in too.

Marcus and Dean were looking sheepish at the girls.

“S-so you got away too, eh?" Marcus asked, trying his best to sound casual. Harriet felt her face burn with anger.

“You three look like you had a bit of an adventure, eh?" Dean said too. Neville looked back and forth between them, bemused.

Harriet couldn't take it. She got to her feet, stormed across the common room to Dean and slapped him hard across the cheek before she started shouting at him, hitting him hard in the arm every other word.

“How dare you...?! How did—you think—that would—impress me?!"

Dean was recoiling as Harriet felt herself losing control. “Agreeing to—a fight—in the—first place? Walking into—a stupidly—obvious—trick?!"

Dean finally moved back far enough Harriet couldn't reach him, and she unloaded more. “I just made the Quidditch team! The youngest player in a century! You almost cost me that, and you nearly got us caught by Filch too and possibly expelled or losing a ridiculous amount of points and then—!"

She paused, finally taking a breath. “And then we nearly got eaten by the dirty great three-headed dog that's apparently been living in the third-floor corridor!" Harriet nearly shrieked. Finally, Ronnie pulled Harriet back as Harriet glared at Dean even more.

“Hey, what about him!?" Dean said back defensively, pointing at Marcus, who glowered back at Dean. "He agreed to it in the first place!"

“Malfoy called Harriet's mother a 'Mudblood', and I'm a 'Mudblood'! You just wanted to look good in front of Harriet!" Marcus snapped at Dean, who finally looked somewhat ashamed of himself.

Harriet was too incensed to speak anymore. At that moment, a light came on from the direction of the boys’ dormitories, and Percy Weasley came down.

“What's going on down here?! Do any of you have any idea what time it is?" He demanded, looking furious with them all. "I want all of you back in bed, now, no excuses."

Harriet shot glares at Dean and Marcus again before she turned and stormed off towards her dormitory, Ronnie and Hermione in tow.

“H-Harriet... please... just..." Harriet heard Marcus say behind her, a definite not of plea and apology in his voice but she didn't care. She stormed up the steps, livid at the entire situation. As they started up the stairs, Ronnie finally managed to find her voice.

“What are they thinking of keeping that monster here inside the school?!" Ronnie finally managed to say, still wide-eyed and trembling a little, her mind apparently still on the dog.

“It's guarding something," Harriet said impatiently. “That was the third-floor corridor on the right; I figured that package Hagrid took from Gringotts was down that corridor after I read about the Gringotts break-in at Hagrid's."

“Yes, and it was standing on a trap door," Hermione added, nodding in agreement with Harriet.

“Well... it doesn't tell us what that package Hagrid took out of Gringotts was, but now we know where it is..." Harriet said as they finally got into the dormitory. They tiptoed, not wanting to wake Lavender and Parvati.

“Well, I know one thing..." Ronnie whispered to the other three as they started to get changed. “I'll never rest until I've learned a curse that will work on Peeves for sending us into that room..."

Harriet walked straight over to her bed and climbed into it. She turned out her oil lamp, tugged her covers up to her chin, and forced her eyes closed, trying to sleep. Her heart was still racing, and yet in the midst of it, there was a tiny bit of her mind that she was aware of that knew she and her friends had just had quite an adventure and was thoroughly pleased about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk and Kieran O'Brien property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Pixie Fanfarró property of Hasbro
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	7. Boys, Brooms and Trolls

“In my life, the one thing I have always valued the most out of any other has been friendship. Lovers have come and gone. Family can often be less than welcoming, but true friends will always go to any length for you. I would far rather lose a lover than a true friend any day.”

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Harriet groaned with exhaustion the following morning. As she sat up, she hoped a little that it had all been a dream, but she was so tired from lack of sleep she knew it couldn’t have been. The equally tired and aggravated faces of Ronnie and Hermione as she got out of bed confirmed it had all happened.

Harriet sighed as she started getting dressed. It would be another double Potions that morning. Another miserable two hours locked in a dungeon with Professor Snape and the Slytherins.

Parvati and Lavender both looked around at the other three girls, confused.

“What are you three all so tired and miserable looking for?” Lavender asked.

None of the trio responded, merely set to work making themselves look halfway presentable.

“Why were you three out so late last night? I heard you get back in…” Parvati asked, though in a rather gentler tone. “You didn’t have a fight did you?”

Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione shook their heads.

“No, not with each other, at least,” Hermione said.

Parvati looked relieved. “Oh, that’s good then; who was it with…?”

None of them answered, and Parvati seemed to get the hint. Lavender was about to ask another question, but Parvati took her by the arm and together they went out the door and down the stairs towards the common room.

“You know, at least Marcus did look pretty ashamed of himself…” Ronnie said quietly to the other two. “Why were you so upset at just Dean, not Marcus, too?” she asked Harriet.

Harriet sighed sitting on her bed. “Well, I _was_ pretty upset with him, but… I don’t even really know…” she admitted, setting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, feeling grumpy. Ronnie nodded but didn’t press her anymore.

“Do, do you like him back?” Hermione asked, giving Harriet a slightly searching, sharp look.

Harriet shook her head and shrugged. “Not really. He’s nice, and he and Seamus are a laugh, but that’s it. I guess I just don’t buy into this whole 'boys' issue with everyone else. Also… I kinda felt a little insulted…”

“Why?” Ronnie asked, curiously.

Harriet shrugged again. “It just felt like he was assuming what kind of person I like… that I care how ‘cool’ and ‘tough’ someone is…” Harriet explained, and the other two nodded.

“Well, let’s not talk about it anymore. Let’s just get some breakfast, and we’ll all feel better for it. We’re alive, they’re alive, no one got in trouble, there’s no sense making any more of a deal out of it than we possibly have to,” Hermione said in a bolstering tone.

Harriet and Ronnie finally agreed and got to their feet, following her out into the staircase as well. However, upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, the topic of last night was immediately thrust back upon them. Marcus was sitting beside the doorway to the girls’ dormitory staircase. He was still in his pyjamas, and he had prominent bags under his bloodshot eyes. He looked up at them as they came down and slowly got to his feet.

“Blimey, Marcus. Didn’t you sleep at all? You look like hell!” Ronnie declared. Marcus merely shook his head.

“No…” he muttered, having a hard time meeting the three girls’ eyes. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all looked at each other before looking back at Marcus.

“I’m sorry… to all of you. I am… I should never have done it or gotten you into that situation, especially you, Harriet, after what happened earlier yesterday and I just… can you ever forgive me…?” He asked, still not meeting their eyes.

The three girls stole glances at each other again, and to Harriet and Ronnie’s surprise, Hermione stepped forward and hugged the taller boy gently.

“It’s alright, you were upset, and you had every right to be…” Hermione said softly.

Marcus looked down at her, shocked before he gave her a quick hug back. Harriet couldn’t help herself and gave him one too. They all looked at Ronnie.

“As long as you admit that what you did was still incredibly stupid…” Ronnie demanded; though the corners of her mouth did twitch a little.

Marcus looked thoroughly relieved and nodded in a heartfelt way. Ronnie finally smiled and hugged him too.

“Okay, well we’re gonna go get breakfast,” Harriet said, smiling. “Go get dressed, and we’ll see you down there, okay?”

Marcus wearily headed over towards the boys’ dormitories. As he started up them, he moved aside, and Dean and Seamus came past him. They both shot Marcus curious looks as he went past before they stopped dead when they saw Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione. Harriet looked at Dean’s face, seeing that same pleading look she’d seen in Marcus’ face, but somehow she just couldn’t quite bring herself to forgive him yet.

Harriet turned, without a word, and headed out of the portrait hole. She heard Hermione and Ronnie following her, though neither said anything. They finally reached the Great Hall, where Harriet could not help but notice Malfoy muttering with a smirk to a rather impressed looking group of older Slytherin students who kept stealing glances towards the Gryffindor table.

Harriet knew at once what he was talking about. Having not seen either of them yet, Malfoy was surely thinking he had been successful in his tricking of Marcus and Dean into getting caught and expelled. Harriet felt her insides burn even more, as all of her anger began directing itself towards Malfoy. She would get Malfoy for that someday, she knew it.

Only a few minutes later, however, Harriet did smirk a little as she saw Malfoy’s face go from victoriously smug to utterly dumbfounded as Dean and Seamus finally strolled in. The two boys went down to sit at the other end of the table, not looking at Harriet and the rest as they passed.

Harriet wondered again what it was that had made her so upset at Dean. She decided it could only be what Hermione had said, about how Dean had done it because he ‘fancied her’. She had only ever thought of him as just part of the group, nothing more really. She’d never really had a boy “fancy” her before; she was entirely out of her element about it.

The icing on the cake to Harriet’s morning came about five minutes later when Marcus walked in too. Malfoy was, by now, looking deflated and the older Slytherins who had gathered around him eagerly were looking less than impressed. Harriet felt her smirk grow and she started eating her sausage somewhat gleefully. Marcus sat with them, joined by Kieran and Neville who had evidently been waiting for him.

“So, you lot did have an adventure last night then…?” Kieran asked in a would-be casual voice, though the corners of his mouth were twitching all the same. Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione and Marcus all groaned, and Kieran laughed a little.

“Hey, you’re all safe, that’s what counts, yeah?” Kieran said helping himself to some breakfast. They all exchanged shy glances, but Harriet could tell they all agreed.

“How’s your arm, Neville?” Hermione asked in a concerned voice.

Neville smiled. “Fine. Madame Pomfrey fixed it in minutes. She kept me there for a while though for ‘observation’ before she let me go… then I forgot the password…” he muttered ashamedly.

“Well, you got in though in the end, yeah?” asked Kieran, chuckling in his good-natured way. Neville nodded.

“Thanks to Marcus and Dean…”

At the mention of Dean’s name, Harriet finally couldn’t take it anymore and had to ask. “Okay, so… should I make it all up with Dean then… or shouldn’t I…?” Harriet asked, pleadingly.

“Nah, that’s up to you,” Fred said, appearing out of nowhere and sitting next to Harriet before immediately grabbing up some bacon.

“Yeah,” said George sitting on the opposite side next to Neville. Neville looked up at the older student slightly awestruck, though George ignored him.

“He was a bit of a git, we’ll say, so being a bit annoyed with him is understandable,” George went on, slicing a grapefruit in half.

“You two just love to pop out of nowhere and start giving me advice don’t you?” Harriet asked, half-admiring, half-exasperated.

Fred and George just beamed.

“It’s a tiresome job, but someone has to steer you young’ins right,” Fred said, taking a bite of bacon, eating it with his fingers.

Ronnie snorted, disbelieving. Fred and George merely smiled at her.

“You’re a special case, little sis,” George explained.

Neville spluttered as juice from George’s grapefruit sprayed into his face. George apologised with twitching lips, trying not to laugh. Harriet suspected that might not have been an accident.

“See, George and I get into trouble, alright? But we’re always careful about it.”

“Yeah, we don’t mind if we get detentions and lose points, but we’d never risk other students’ reputations,” George went on before taking another bite of grapefruit.

“Well, unless they are the target of our mischief of course.”

“Or they’re Slytherins.”

“Though that’s most often the same.”

Harriet rolled her eyes at them, but they merely smiled and resumed eating in earnest.

After breakfast, the first years made their way down to Potions. Harriet was sure that Professor Snape would act the same as he had the week before, and unfortunately, she was not disappointed. Even more unfortunately, the same could not be said of Marcus and Dean.

Marcus, who seemed to be barely able to keep his eyes open and was working at the same table as Dean and Seamus, hadn’t followed his directions right, with the result that his cauldron’s contents blasted out like a volcano. Dean and Marcus were covered in the substance. Seamus had somehow managed to dive out of the way in time.

This time, instead of boils, the potion had the effect of making Dean and Marcus stick to whatever they touched. Professor Snape was beside himself with anger at another disruption taking place in his class. Malfoy and the other Slytherins were beside themselves with laughter, as Professor Snape began telling the two boys off. It was this, more than any other that made Harriet finally decide to forgive Marcus and Dean completely.

Professor Snape found an elixir that unstuck Dean and Marcus from their table and stools before taking ten points from Gryffindor, collectively. The Gryffindors all glared at Professor Snape again, but none of them dared speak up against him. He looked angry enough already as he set them all back to work.

Again at the end of class, Professor Snape went around, inspecting everyone’s cauldrons. Just as Harriet had predicted, he took a glance at Ronnie’s then moved straight past Harriet to look at Hermione’s before he moved on. Harriet tried to call after Professor Snape, to demand that he look at her potion but Ronnie grabbed Harriet’s arm, pulling it down and shaking her head warningly. Hermione merely looked at Harriet sympathetically and patted her shoulder.

Harriet sighed in resignation as they all made their way out of the lower levels. She knew she should be hungry, but after another lame fiasco of Potions class, she just didn’t feel up to it. Once again, her potion by the looks of it had been second only to Hermione’s. But no, still she was passed over, while Malfoy was showered with praise.

She was glad that it was now the weekend, and there were two whole days before classes resumed, and an entire week before she would have to deal with Professor Snape and the stupid Slytherins in Potions class again.

“Let’s go out into the grounds after lunch,” Ronnie suggested as they walked. “Get some sun and see the lake before it gets too cold.”

Harriet nodded in agreement with this idea.

“But—” Hermione spluttered before Ronnie cut her off.

“Oh just bring your books with you!” Ronnie exclaimed in exasperation. “You don’t have to be in the library to read!”

## * * * *

Harriet sighed happily as she dipped her bare feet into the warm water of the lake. Being this far north, she had expected it to be much colder, but only two weeks into September it was still perfectly warm and comfortable. Ronnie giggled beside her as she kicked a little, and Harriet covered her head as water splashed toward her.

“Hey!” Harriet cried, squealing a little.

Ronnie smirked and bumped Harriet’s shoulder with her own.

“Just a little water,” Ronnie teased, “can’t believe those Muggle films about it making us melt and all that.”

Harriet rolled her eyes and bumped Ronnie’s shoulder back.

“No, but it doesn’t mean I enjoy wearing wet clothes either!” Harriet retorted but still giggled.

Ronnie had been right. Getting out into the sun had done wonders to Harriet’s mood. They had gone to lunch, gathering up food in their bags and taking it out on the grounds to eat instead. The only slight blemish on the delightful picnic had been the unpleasant surprise they received when Ronnie threw a slice of bread out to some ducks that had been swimming along near the shore.

The ducks had only just reached it when a giant tentacle came out of the water snatching the slice of bread. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all agreed it would have been a more interesting surprise had it not also taken one of the ducks with it.

They were slightly reluctant to put their feet in after that, until Percy, who had been walking nearby, reassured them it was only the giant squid, who knew very well not to eat Hogwarts students and that they were still perfectly safe near the water. Ronnie and Harriet had been brave enough after this, though Hermione was still high and dry a few yards behind them, reading and resolutely refusing to get anywhere near the lake.

“Aft’noon ladies,” came a voice from behind them.

Kieran, Marcus, and Scott were coming towards them. Harriet couldn’t quite see them properly in the bright sun, looking curiously at Marcus who was carrying his right arm strangely. She put her hand to her forehead, shielding her eyes and gasped softly to see that on his arm was a leather gauntlet and a small falcon.

Hermione looked at the little falcon curiously. “Is it a peregrine?” she asked, interested.

Marcus nodded, scratching the small raptor behind its head and down its neck and shoulders while it twittered in apparent appreciation and fluffed its feathers. Harriet bit back a giggle at the rather adorable sight.

“Yeah, this is Adal. Dad got him for me just before we moved here to England,” Marcus explained as he held up a small piece of raw chicken, which Adal began eating ravenously. Marcus rolled his eyes at the bird but smiled all the same.

“I didn’t know we were allowed birds other than owls…” Ronnie said, studying the falcon with a mixture of interest and jealousy. Marcus shrugged.

“We asked the school about it when I applied for a transfer, and they said it was fine,” Marcus explained.

Ronnie gave Marcus a questioning look, her eyes moving towards Adal and back as she raised her hand.

“May I…?” she asked in a hopeful way.

Marcus held his arm out a little more. Ronnie reached up, and Adal put his head down, letting Ronnie scratch his neck and shoulders. Ronnie bit her lip and gave a little girlish giggle that Harriet at once found rather adorable, mainly because it was so unlike Ronnie to do so.

As they watched Ronnie cooing over Adal, Harriet happened to catch a glimpse of Scott that made her pause. He was staring past Harriet, Ronnie, and Hermione towards the lake. Harriet turned, expecting to see the giant squid again, but instead, she saw the three Japanese girls: Tomomi Itoh, Atsuko Makeda, and Sae Miyazaki. She couldn’t help but smile at them a little as she saw them: little Tomomi, half a head shorter than Atsuko, who was, in turn, a half a head shorter than Sae.

She looked at the tallest of the three girls curiously. Sae seemed so unlike the other Slytherins. She never joined in for the back and forth taunting matches between Slytherins and Gryffindors, for instance. In Potions, she never laughed at things like Neville or Marcus’ potions going wrong. Harriet supposed it was because she wasn’t from this country that she didn’t care about the old house rivalries.

Tomomi paused as she spotted their group. The corners of her mouth curled into a little smirk, and she elbowed Atsuko, pointing at Scott. Atsuko looked up and went bright pink. Tomomi raised her hand to wave at them enthusiastically, but Atsuko looked horrified and quickly pulled her friend’s hand back down and started briskly walking past them. Tomomi gave a sad sigh following close behind Atsuko, while Sae merely rolled her eyes and smiled affectionately at her friends as she followed in their wake.

Harriet looked back at Scott again. He was resolutely not watching the girls as they passed. Distracted by the falcon, none of the others seemed to have noticed any of this happening. Harriet finally managed to catch Scott's eye discretely, and in spite of herself, she couldn’t help but give him a little knowing smile that made him blush just as much as Atsuko had.

Harriet’s stomach clenched a little when she saw who was walking past behind Scott. It was Dean and Seamus, and both were looking rather more determinedly in the opposite direction of the group than was believable. Harriet bit her lip, wanting to go over and tell Dean that she wasn’t mad anymore, but what could she say? She wasn’t even particularly that close of friends with either Dean or Seamus in the first place. She sighed silently and returned her attention to the group.

“Harriet?” Kieran asked, and Harriet jumped a little, blushing as she realised they were all looking at her and had apparently been talking to her.

“Oh s-sorry, what?” Harriet asked, figuring there was no point hiding that she hadn’t been paying attention.

“I just asked when your first Quidditch practice was going to be?” Kieran asked again, curiously.

“Oh—ur—I’m not sure. I don’t even have a broomstick yet after all,” Harriet said, shifting uncomfortably. “Oh, a-and don’t say too much about it. Wood said he wanted it to be secret…” Harriet went on, looking around a little nervously, hoping they weren’t being overheard.

Scott simply shrugged. “Hey, I’m neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin; it’s not my business to say anything about it either way,” Scott said with a smile.

Harriet smiled in appreciation. “Thanks,” she said brushing her hair back behind her ear.

Marcus gave his arm a little, quick lift, helping launch Adal into the air. The small falcon swooped low and fast over the lake, gathering speed before he started climbing higher into the sky, his little head pivoting back and forth as he went, apparently on the hunt. Indeed, a small cloud of what looked like sparrows took flight from one of the castle’s towers, and he instantly gave chase.

Marcus chuckled and took off the gauntlet, stuffing it back into his bag. Scott kept watching the falcon, fascinated, as it dove again through the group of little birds before climbing for renewed attacks.

“Scott’s a bit of an animal nut,” Kieran whispered in Harriet’s ear quietly, though Scott still heard.

“I’m not an ‘animal nut.’ I’m an enthusiast, thank you very much, Kieran,” Scott corrected, though barely suppressing a smile.

Harriet giggled. “You should meet Hagrid then,” she said.

“Oh,” said Scott curiously.

Harriet nodded. “Yeah, definitely another ‘enthusiast’ there,” She said with a knowing smile.

Ronnie rolled her eyes now. “I think wanting a dragon as a pet puts one well past ‘enthusiast’ and very solidly into ‘nutter’ category,” Ronnie said with a more than a hint of disbelief still in her voice.

“Uhhhh yeah, I’d have to say I agree,” Scott said, looking somewhat uncertainly towards the little hut at the edge of the forest.

“We could go see him if you’d like,” Harriet said, smiling. “He’s nice, honest.”

Hermione and Ronnie nodded in agreement. The three boys all looked at each other and finally smiled and nodded. Harriet and Ronnie ran back to the lake and quickly put their socks and shoes back on before they all headed off for Hagrid’s.

## * * * *

The next week passed amicably enough. The only difference is that Dean and Seamus kept largely to themselves, while Scott joined them regularly weren’t in class or the Gryffindor common room or the Great Hall. Harriet still felt too awkward actually to talk to Dean about all that had happened, but somehow, it was starting not to bother her that much.

She had finally decided now that it was, indeed, the fact that Dean ‘fancied’ her that made her so uncomfortable around him. To the best of her knowledge, no one had ever ‘fancied’ her before, nor had she ever really fancied anyone herself. She’d never had a friend before Hogwarts, after all; no one ever talked to her in her old school. The most she’d ever really cared about had just been her marks and homework.

And then there was the fact that no matter how she thought about it, there wasn’t a single part of her that fancied him at all. He was nice, and he was funny, and she had to admit that he wasn’t bad looking for a boy, but that was it. Outside of that, he was just a boy she knew.

However, the following Thursday morning, all thoughts about Dean and what she should do about him were driven from her mind with the morning post. She’d just been finishing her bowl of cereal when the incoming swarm of letter-bearing owls made her look up. She looked curiously as six screech owls fluttered in, all of them holding part of a long, thin parcel. She was just wondering what it was and who it was for when without warning, the owls swooped down and set the package right in front of her, Ronnie and Hermione’s laps.

“What the—” Harriet muttered when yet another owl fluttered down with a letter. Harriet took it from the owl who took off at once. She gave Ronnie, Hermione, Kieran, Neville and Marcus a quizzical look. They all shrugged, and Harriet finally opened the letter and read.

 

_Potter,_

_DO— NOT OPEN THIS PACKAGE AT THE TABLE! This is your new_ Nimbus 2000 _racing broom. Open it back in your dormitory, as I do not want everyone knowing you have a broomstick, or everyone will want one. You will have your first training session tonight with Wood at seven-o-clock._

_Sincerely,_

_Prof. M. McGonagall_

 

Harriet groaned in excitement and handed the note to Ronnie.

“Wow…” Ronnie muttered, staring at the package with wonder.

Harriet stole a glance at Professor McGonagall. She was drinking from her goblet at that moment, but though Harriet was never able to confirm it, she was quite sure that as she looked, Professor McGonagall gave her the slightest of winks as she set the goblet down and resumed talking to Professor Flitwick.

Harriet looked at Ronnie conspiratorially, and they quickly got up from the table and started towards the Entrance Hall, pausing so Ronnie could run back and grab Hermione, who was looking disgruntled at being interrupted from her breakfast as she re-joined them.

“It’s just a broomstick,” Hermione groaned a little in a disinterested way, her stomach still growling.

“Just a broomstick…?” Ronnie asked, aghast. “This isn’t just a broomstick, Hermione! This is one of the best brooms in the whole world! It’s a _Nim_ —”

Ronnie was cut off from explaining when—predictably—Draco Malfoy, sneering, with Crabbe and Goyle in tow. He snatched the package away from Harriet without a word and felt it through the wrapping.

“A broomstick? Oh dear, dear, dear, Potter. You are in trouble now, aren’t you?” Malfoy smirked.

“Give it back, Malfoy,” Harriet demanded.

Malfoy’s smirk grew. “I think I’ll have to report this. It’s my duty as a good student to report any wrong-doing I see, isn’t it?” Malfoy asked, smiling as if Christmas had come early.

Hermione piped up now, a smile quite apparent in her voice now too. “You can try, Malfoy, the result would be incredibly amusing,” she taunted.

Malfoy’s sneer faltered a little. Apparently, he picked up on Hermione's tone. Professor Flitwick emerged from the Great Hall, and Malfoy decided to call Hermione's bluff.

“Professor! Potter has a broomstick!” Malfoy declared immediately.

Professor Flitwick merely smiled. “Oh yes! Professor McGonagall told me all about it this morning. A _Nimbus_ _2000_ I believe, Potter?”

“Oh, yes sir, Professor Flitwick!” Harriet said, feeling a million times more cheerful.

This was heightened when she saw the horrified expression on Malfoy’s face and the utterly dumbstruck looks on Crabbe and Goyle’s. Harriet decided it was time to twist the handle a bit on Malfoy.

“Oh, and it’s thanks to Malfoy here that I have it! Thank you Draco!” she said smiling her widest smile and batting her eyes at him. Malfoy’s face went as red as Ronnie’s hair before he and his cronies slouched away, muttering under his breath.

They discussed the broomstick a little more with Professor Flitwick, who despite being blatantly too small to fly a full-sized broom seemed quite knowledgeable about them. They bid him goodbye and headed up to their common room to put the broom away safely before class.

“You know, you really should be careful at how much you needle Malfoy like that, Harriet,” Hermione warned under her breath as they walked away.

“You needled him first!” Harriet retorted, making Hermione blush.

“Yes I only did it once, but Malfoy’s—even if he seems like he’s all bluster—is kind of scary…” Hermione said, twisting her hands a little and looking around nervously, as though expecting to see Malfoy waiting to jump out at them.

Harriet sighed, and Ronnie rolled her eyes as they continued up to Gryffindor Tower. They climbed through the portrait hole, and Harriet quickly ran up the stairway to their dormitory. She sighed longingly as she set the broomstick down on her bed.

“I’ll be back this afternoon…” Harriet said to it softly before she turned and ran back down the stairs to re-join her friends.

That night at seven-o-clock, Harriet made her way down to the Quidditch pitch. Her _Nimbus_ _2000_ was tucked lovingly under her arm. She and Ronnie had opened it reverently after dinner. The handle was straight as an arrow, sleek and luxurious mahogany. The sticks in the tail were all very fine and straight, and the words “ _Nimbus_ _2000_ ” were engraved expertly on the handle.

As she entered the pitch, Harriet gasped in awe. The stadium was large enough to hold the entire population of the school in its stands. At either end of the long pitch were three tall posts with a hoop at the top of each. They reminded her of bubble wands that she would see other children playing with when she was younger.

It seemed she had arrived before Wood, and couldn’t wait another moment. She swung her leg up over the broom and kicked off. The sensation was amazing. She had felt impressed by the excitement of flying the school broom, but that was nothing compared to how the _Nimbus_ performed. On the _Nimbus_ , Harriet was sure she could have managed to catch Neville’s Remembrall after only ten feet of flight, not fifty.

She looped easily around the tall posts and even good-natured the hoops themselves, pressing herself flat to her broom as she did. There was a whistle from below her. She looked down to see Wood had finally arrived; a large box tucked under his arm. Harriet flew down to him and saw Wood beaming with excitement.

“Now I see what Professor McGonagall meant! You are a natural!” he said approvingly and set the large box on the ground.

“Now, you said you’d never seen a Quidditch match before, right? It’s an easy enough game to get, even if it’s not so easy to play. Each side has seven players, right?” Wood explained.

Harriet put up a hand suddenly. “W-wait, hang on a moment,” she said and quickly ran over to her bag, grabbing out a piece of parchment, her quill, and ink.

“Just want to write it down so I know I’ll get it all,” Harriet explained to the bemused looking Wood.

Wood smiled and nodded again. “Very good. Early dedication. I like that, Potter. Right, each side has seven players.”

“Seven players…” Harriet muttered under her breath as she jotted it down.

“Three of the players are called Chasers,” Wood went on. “Our Chasers are Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell. Chasers play with the Quaffle; this ball here.”

Wood opened the box, revealing four balls. One was about the size of a football, and bright red. Wood took it from the crate.

“The Chasers’ job is to get the Quaffle through the other side’s hoops,” Wood explained, pointing to the large hoops Harriet had been zooming around when he’d arrived. “That’s called a goal, and there are ten points to every goal.”

“Ten… points… to… goal… okay!” Harriet said as she wrote furiously, wanting to show her dedication even more.

Wood beamed down at her. “The only other player concerned with the Quaffle during matches is the Keeper; one Keeper per team. I’m Keeper of our team. It’s my job to keep the other side from putting the Quaffle through our hoops.”

“One Keeper… guards hoops… from Quaffle,” Harriet muttered.

“Now the next two balls _everyone_ has to worry about: the Bludgers.”

Wood handed Harriet a small bat without an explanation. Wood then pointed to the next two balls, which were identical, jet black, and slightly smaller than the Quaffle. They were strapped into the box tightly, though Harriet couldn’t help but notice they seemed to be struggling hard against the straps, trying to escape.

Wood motioned for Harriet to stand back as he finally let one loose. The ball rocketed skywards as a black streak before it turned and propelled itself straight back at Harriet. Harriet instinctively swung the little bat and hit the Bludger a good blow, knocking it away. It corrected itself and spiralled around them a few times before it went for Wood instead. Wood managed to catch it, though it knocked him down onto his backside and winded him before he wrestled it back into the box.

Wood got back to his feet, slightly doubled over and panting from the blow and the effort.

“Bludgers… rocket around, see… t-trying to knock people off their brooms…” Wood grunted, before rising to his full height after he recovered. “To defend against the Bludgers there are two players per team called Beaters. Fred and George Weasley are our Beaters, which is lucky because I don’t think I’ve ever seen better Beaters either.

“Our team is going to be strong this year, that’s for sure. Anyway, you won’t have to worry about Bludgers as long as the Weasleys are in the air and on our side,” Wood said with a reassuring smile, as Harriet had still been eyeing the Bludgers with some apprehension.

“And finally, the one that will matter the most to you, is this one, the Golden Snitch,” Wood pointed to the final ball.

It was tiny, barely the size of a golf-ball, with little wings on its sides. Like the Bludgers, it also seemed anxious to escape. Unlike the Bludgers, Harriet felt a twinge of sympathy for the little Snitch, as though it were a living thing that wanted nothing more than to fly. She felt a little silly as she realised she wanted to set it free, as though it didn’t deserve to be locked into a box like that.

“A Quidditch match only ends when a Seeker—that’s you—catches it. When they do, they win their team an extra one hundred fifty points, so whichever team catches the Snitch is almost guaranteed to win, though not always. Crazier things have happened. Because the Seeker is so important, that means they’re also the most targeted and fouled. So you’re going to either have to be fast or tough, though preferably both,” Wood said very seriously.

Harriet nodded and swallowed nervously. Wood looked around at the sky that was already growing dark.

“Don’t think we’ll let the Snitch out in this light, we’d probably lose it. We’ll just practice with some golf balls. I’ll throw them, and you catch them, alright?”

Harriet beamed with excitement. “Alright.”

Harriet was beside herself with excitement after practice. She hadn’t missed a single golf ball that Wood had thrown. After it was over, as Wood walked back into Madame Hooch’s office to put the balls away, Harriet could have sworn she’d seen him give a little jump and click his heels together with giddiness.

Something about making him feel so happy made her feel even better. She wanted to prove him right more than anything, that she was the Seeker he’d been waiting for and would help lead them to victory this year. She felt her cheeks flush a bit as she remembered the joy on his face after the end of practice.

As she headed back to Gryffindor Tower, she remembered something Parvati had said once (or was it Lavender?) about liking older boys better. As she entered the common room and saw the beaming faces of Fred and George waiting to ask her how practice had gone, Harriet had to admit, whichever it was, they’d had a point.

## * * * *

The following month came and went in a flash. They were progressing quickly in their classes, and near the end of October excitement in the school was growing more and more obvious. Part of it was for the oncoming Halloween feast, which apparently was one of the highlights of the year.

The other was the first upcoming Hogsmeade weekend, where students third year and above could go into the local wizarding village, though as only first-years Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione obviously could not go. Most of the excitement, however, was for the steadily nearing Quidditch season.

Ronnie continued to gush over Harriet being on the team. She came to all of Harriet’s practices. Harriet usually even got time after practice to let Ronnie practice flying on the _Nimbus_. Harriet was pleased to see that Ronnie wasn’t all that bad a flyer, despite being banned from flying by Fred and George at their house. Harriet thought Ronnie had enough potential she could make it on the team in a few years if she practised.

The morning of Halloween, the entire castle was awash with the wonderful smell of baking pumpkins. Charms that afternoon proved much more interesting than in the past two weeks. Professor Flitwick was in an even better mood than usual and told them all that they were going to be learning how to make objects fly. Harriet and the rest of the class moaned with excitement. Harriet had been longing to do this ever since Professor Flitwick had made Neville’s toad, Trevor, fly around the classroom in their last class as a demonstration.

Harriet was working with Kieran, while Ronnie and Hermione had wound up together. Dean and Seamus, Marcus and Neville and finally Parvati and Lavender were the other Gryffindor pairs. Harriet and Kieran had finally managed to make their feather float at least a few inches, and they were having quite a bit of fun slowly prodding it back and forth to each other in the air.

Beside them, Ronnie and Hermione were bickering. Ronnie was having difficulty getting their feather to float, arguing with Hermione over which part of the incantation, “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ,” that the emphasis should be put on. Hermione demonstrated her correct way of saying it by making the feather float all the way to the ceiling, which got applause and tremendous praise from Professor Flitwick. This, of course, made Ronnie all the angrier.

The real distraction came later in the class however when Marcus, apparently in utter frustration at his inability to perform the spell, set his feather on fire, which quickly spread to the desktop.

“ _Aguamenti_!” cried Professor Flitwick, dowsing the top of the desk with a stream of water from his wand, leaving both Marcus and Neville soaked from head to toe and looking miserable. Professor Flitwick asked Marcus to stay after class, wanting to ‘have a talk’ with him.

The rest of the Gryffindors gave Marcus sympathetic looks as they passed him at the end of class, except for Dean and Seamus who had laughed out loud. Apparently, they were still bitter that Dean had gotten more grief than Marcus over the duel fiasco. As for Harriet and Dean, they were back on at least casual terms. Dean had finally cornered her two weeks before and apologised, and Harriet accepted it. He still acted reserved whenever he was around her, but at least they were talking again.

Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione and Kieran all waited outside the door for Marcus after class, planning to commiserate with him a little (Hermione was already halfway through a revision timetable to help him get back on track with Charms). However, when Marcus finally emerged a few minutes later, instead of looking miserable at having been surely given a detention, he was beaming.

“Private lessons!” He exclaimed in an excited though hushed voice. “Professor Flitwick’s going to give me private lessons! He says he knows that I’m good at Charms and I just need a little guidance to get back on track, and he wants to help me with that fire charm I did!”

They all blinked. “Fire charm?” Ronnie asked, bemused. “Was that a fire charm? It just looked to me like you made your desk explode!”

Marcus blushed a little. “I… okay, that is what I did, but Flitwick said it was still really impressive, and that I could get really good at them if I practice!”

Harriet smiled as she glanced back at Professor Flitwick’s door. That had been an excellent and kind thing for Professor Flitwick to have done for Marcus. After the fiasco with the duel, and his losing confidence in Potions after his potion had exploded last month, Harriet couldn’t help but feel he’d suffered enough.

They headed to their next class together. Harriet walked arm in arm with Hermione this time, who was looking put out that Marcus wouldn’t have to use her revision time-table after all. Ronnie was walking a little behind them with Marcus and Kieran, talking about the types of charms Professor Flitwick might teach him.

As they reached the first-floor corridor, Harriet paused at the girls’ bathroom, having second thoughts but finally telling the others she’d catch up with them. She peeked inside and saw that Myrtle at least did not seem to be there. She tip-toed inside and had just stepped into one of the stalls, closing the door behind her when she heard voices approaching and enter the bathroom as well.

Harriet held her breath and tried to keep as silent as possible as she recognised the voices of the two girls who had just come in.

“Can you _believe_ her…?” came the echoing voice of Pansy Parkinson.

“Oh, I _know_ ,” groaned Pixie Fanfarró. “She’s so full of herself, walking around with her little cloud of followers, smiling like a dimwit…”

“It’s just because she’s famous,” Pansy said. Harriet could visualise her glower. “Honestly, no one would even give her the time of day if she didn’t have that stupid scar…”

“Oh tell me about it! And that stupid ‘oh I’m so normal and humble’ act she puts on… give me a break…”

“ _Ohhhh, I’m famous Harriet Potter! Oh, I’m the youngest Hogwarts Quidditch player for a century! I defeated the Dark Lord!_ ” Pansy went on, imitating Harriet’s voice, making her sound flaky and full of herself.

“Can you believe _Malfoy_? Saying he thinks she should have been in our house?” Pixie grumbled in disbelief.

“I know! I know! She doesn’t even belong at Hogwarts, the little muddie spawn, let alone in _our_ house…” Pansy laughed, and Harriet finally heard the door to the bathroom open and close, leaving her in silence.

Harriet leaned sideways against the side of the stall. Tears were streaming down her cheeks now, and she wiped her nose.

Was it really because she was famous…? Did she sound like that…? She didn’t think so, but something about the way Parkinson and Fanfarró said it made her feel utterly miserable.

Part of her wanted to head to class and then down to dinner with everyone else, knowing they would probably cheer her up. At the moment, however, a much more significant part of her mind told her that she just wanted to stay right there, alone.

Parvati and Lavender stuck their heads in about an hour later and tried to talk her into coming down to the Halloween feast. As they did, not just Parkinson and Fanfarró’s voices came to her head now. Now she also remembered Fred and George’s warning about people wanting to be her friend because she was ‘famous.’ Harriet refused, and Parvati and Lavender left, sounding concerned and disappointed.

After another hour or so, Harriet jumped as she heard another noise. It was a sniff of someone crying, but it hadn’t been her who’d made it, and she was sure she hadn’t heard anyone come in.

“H-hello…?” Harriet asked, nervously.

There was a yell of surprise in alarm. “You scared me!” exclaimed the other person.

Harriet squeaked in fright herself as the face of the girl ghost named Myrtle appeared through the side of Harriet’s stall, looking livid.

“I-I-I’m sorry!” Harriet stuttered. “Y-you startled me too though!”

Myrtle’s anger vanished as she looked at Harriet curiously. “What are you upset about?” Myrtle asked.

There was an odd amount of sympathy in Myrtle’s voice. Harriet sniffed and took some toilet paper, blowing her nose.

“N-nothing… just… _people_ …” she muttered in reply.

Myrtle nodded in an understanding way. “Yes, people are horrible things… er, no offence,” Myrtle said, though she didn’t sound that sincere in the apology.

“Everyone says people only like me because I’m famous… but I don’t want to be famous…” Harriet said dismally. Myrtle shrugged.

“I never had many friends either when I was alive… in fact that, was how I died you know…”

“Really…?” Harriet asked. She remembered something Sir Nicholas had said to her about it being rude to ask ghosts how they died, so she didn’t ask outright.

Myrtle nodded. “I was in the very stall I’m mostly in right now. I was crying because people were teasing me about my glasses when I heard a boy’s voice… he shouldn’t have been in here, and his voice sounded funny, and I stepped out to tell him to get out, and when I looked up, all I saw was two large yellow balls and then… I was floating away…”

Harriet swallowed. She was starting to think that going down to the Halloween feast might have been an excellent idea indeed.

“I-I’m sorry to hear that…” Harriet said, trying to sound consoling, instead of horrified.

“No one ever asks me about it…” Myrtle went on, looking morose. “It’s nice to have someone to talk to finally.”

Myrtle looked up at Harriet and smiled. Harriet was about to return it when a wave of stench hit her nose.

“Ugh, what is that smell?” she asked, looking around and pinching her nose.

Myrtle shrugged. “I don’t know. Can’t smell, after all. Something you ate?”

Harriet glared at Myrtle. Then she leaned forward and slowly opened the door to her stall. At first, she didn’t see anything, but then the culprit became horribly apparent. She gasped as a tall, grey monster slowly entered the bathroom, looking around dimly. If Harriet didn’t know better, she would have called it a giant Goyle. It was twelve feet tall, with a horrible, rock-shaped head and long, swinging arms. In its enormous left hand, it was carrying a wooden club, nearly twice as tall as Harriet and dragging on the ground behind.

Harriet shut the door to the stall as quickly and quietly as she could and locked it. Immediately afterwards, she realised what a futile gesture it was. She picked her feet up off the floor, curling into a ball on the seat. Myrtle had vanished. Harriet closed her eyes as she heard the shuffling feet getting nearer. There was horrible crunching, and crashing sounds as its club knocked the row of sinks off the wall as it approached.

She could hear it sniffing as it got nearer, and Harriet’s eyes went wide. In spite of its pungent stench, the monstrosity could smell her. Not only that but as it peered over the top of the stall down at her, Harriet knew it could see her too. The monster raised its club, and Harriet screamed.

Before it could bring the club down, there was a yell from the doorway. It distracted the monster just long enough for Harriet to get down on the ground and slide along underneath the dividers into the next stall. The beast then roared in a fury. It had seen she was gone. Harriet kept crawling on the wet floor as the club smashed the stall behind her to pieces. Harriet looked around. She could see five pairs of feet near the doorway: two girls, and three boys.

“Oy, pea-brain!” came a yell that Harriet now recognised as being Ronnie.

Affection and gratitude welled up inside Harriet as she kept crawling. The giant creature continued to smash stalls, trying to find her. Harriet finally reached the other end and got to her feet as quickly as she could.

It was Ronnie, Hermione, Kieran, Marcus and Scott. She was just in time to see Ronnie throw a tap from one of the broken sinks, hitting the monster in the ear with it. The beast roared in anger and raised its club, coming at them now. All six of the students darted in opposite directions as the club smashed down in between them.

“We need to disarm it!” Hermione yelled as she scrambled back to her feet.

Marcus nodded, and perhaps encouraged from earlier in the day, stepped forward and pointed his wand at the club. He was about to call out a spell when the creature swung at him. Marcus was quick enough to jump back but slipped in the water that was now an inch deep from the smashed sinks and toilets. He slammed back into the wall and yelled in pain before he glared at the monster and jabbed his wand at the club again.

“ _Wingardjum Lefiosa_!”

The incantation came out garbled through his angry, gritted teeth. Just as in Charms class, instead of levitating, the club burst into flames. The creature looked at the flaming club and cried out in terror before it began flailing it around, trying to put out the fire.

“Oh, nice one!” Ronnie cried incredulously as she ducked a swing of the flaming club as the troll continued to panic, “because it wasn’t dangerous enough already! Do it like this, _WingGARdium LeviOsa_!” Ronnie cried pointing her wand, giving it a little swish and a flick.

The monster managed to hang on to the handle of the club as it tried to shoot into the air, but that didn’t help it. The club shot bolt upright, cracking its owner right in the face. The beast’s eyes crossed and rolled back in its head.

“Look out!” Kieran yelled and pulled Harriet aside just as the monster fell crashing forwards, landing where she’d just been standing. Harriet cringed a little in Kieran’s arms before she realised what she was doing and stood up, brushing herself off and trying to look casual.

“Is it… dead…?” Hermione asked as they nervously started inching towards the fallen monster.

“I… I don’t think so…” Harriet said, noting how it was still breathing. “What is it?”

“A troll,” answered another voice.

They spun around and saw Professor McGonagall standing in the doorway. The look on her face had Harriet almost as terrified as she was when seeing the troll in the first place.

“What on earth were you all thinking?! Why are you all not in your dormitories?!” she asked, her nostrils flared, clearly incensed.

Professor Snape sidled into the room now behind McGonagall, limping a little and looking from the students to the troll, though his expression remained cold.

“W-we… we…” Ronnie stuttered as Professor McGonagall loomed over them all.

Harriet finally stepped forward. “S-sorry Professor… I… I was in the bathroom and… and… I didn’t know about the troll… Th-they… my friends… They came to find me and I… I would have died if it hadn’t been for them…” Harriet explained, hanging her head.

Professor McGonagall’s eyes narrowed. “And what on earth were you doing in here and not down at the feast, Potter?” she asked. She was no longer yelling, but her anger was unabated.

“I… because… I overheard…” emotions began welling inside Harriet now.

She didn’t even notice Quirrell enter behind Snape and nearly faint after seeing the troll. Harriet felt all of the other five students looking at her, but found she couldn’t look back at them. She felt too ashamed of herself.

“Overheard what, Potter?” Professor McGonagall pressed, her forehead so furrowed now her eyebrows were almost touching.

“S-some girls… they… They said…”

Professor McGonagall’s expression didn’t change. She looked at the other five students now.

“Well, you were all lucky I’d say, but you still did manage to save a fellow student’s life, five points to each of you for that. You may return to your common rooms now. Professor Snape, Professor Quirrell, remain here watching the troll while I take Potter to the hospital wing to make sure she is unharmed,” Professor McGonagall told the other two teachers.

Professor Snape nodded; his face somehow paler than usual as his eyes glanced from the troll to the smashed stalls and back to Harriet again before returning to Professor McGonagall. Professor Quirrell on the other hand merely whimpered, almost on the verge of hyperventilating.

“Come with me, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said as she strode rapidly from the bathroom.

Harriet followed in the tall woman’s wake, her mind racing. Again, Professor McGonagall was leading her off, looking furious with her. Somehow, she didn’t think she was going to be rewarded this time as she had been after the Remembrall incident.

Harriet soon noted they were not going to the hospital wing. Instead, they stopped at Professor McGonagall’s office. Professor McGonagall opened the door and stepped inside. Harriet followed, her legs still trembling. She couldn’t tell if it was because of her fear over what was going to happen to her now, or because she was soaked from head to toe in water in a chilly castle, or because of the encounter with the troll. She decided it was probably all three.

She felt utterly miserable. She had nearly gotten her friends killed coming after her, all because she’d been thick enough to buy into what Parkinson and Fanfarró had said about her. And now she was probably going to be expelled or put in detention for the rest of her life at Hogwarts.

“Have a seat, Potter,” Professor McGonagall said, nodding to a straight-backed, wooden chair in front of her desk. Professor McGonagall sat behind her desk, looking at Harriet seriously.

“You’re going to need a thicker skin, Potter, with a reputation like yours,” Professor McGonagall said without preamble.

Harriet looked up at her. Professor McGonagall didn’t look upset anymore. If possible, she seemed somewhat motherly?

“You have had much happen in your life you had no control over, and everyone knows it,” Professor McGonagall went on, before tapping her wand on her desk where a steaming mug of hot chocolate appeared. Harriet forward, taking the mug in her hands.

“Th-thank you very much, Professor,” Harriet said, taking a sip. It was delicious, and somehow she felt her tension and fear melting away. “And, I know… they were saying how my friends weren’t my real friends… How people only like me because I’m famous… how I don’t belong at Hogwarts…” Harriet went on, feeling her lower lip tremble again.

“Potter, of course, people are going to say that. They’re jealous. Unfortunately, you will deal with that your entire life, whether you want to or not. You’ve been singled out as being special. Which you are. You’re doing very well in classes, and you’re an excellent Quidditch player already. The entire wizarding world knows your name. Those five students who ran into that bathroom after you, Potter? Those are your real friends. People don’t risk their lives like that for mere celebrity.”

Professor McGonagall was smiling slightly. Harriet wiped the corner of her eye.

“Thank you, Professor… thank you very much… You’re right,” Harriet said.

Her heart felt like it was swelling as she imagined her friends in her mind. Friends. She had friends. Real friends. Friends who had risked their lives for her. Harriet then made a solemn vow to herself that she would do the same for any of them, at any time.

“Now, off to Gryffindor Tower with you, Potter. The feasts are continuing in the house common rooms,” Professor McGonagall said; her crisp, business-like tone back. “I have to go report what has happened to the Headmaster. Goodnight, Potter.”

“Goodnight, Professor.”

 

\- Dedicated to Esther Marian Klein… born 24 November 1926, passed 11 July 2012… I miss you, Grandma… -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of :iconnight-miner:
> 
> Tomomi Itoh, Atsuko Makeda and Sae Miyazaki property of :iconlittlebityamelie:
> 
> Pixie Fanfarró property of Hasbro
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	8. Gryffindor versus Slytherin

“Nothing puts life in new perspective like the possibility of death.”

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“I can't believe you thought we only liked you because you're famous!”

Harriet hung her head. They were sitting in the middle of the floor in the first-year boys' dormitory. The common room was still full of feasting students, and the boys couldn't come up into the girls' dormitories, so they had decided on their room for privacy.

After returning to the common room, Harriet had been greeted with a rib-crushing hug from a worried looking Hermione. All of them were there waiting for her. Only Scott was missing as he was back in his own common room in Ravenclaw Tower.

They let Harriet go up to the dorm to change into dry clothes before they snuck into the boys' dorm and were now discussing all that had happened. Ronnie was scowling, looking wounded after Harriet explained why she had been in the bathroom in the first place.

“I'm sorry…” Harriet said, meaning it with all her heart. “It was my turn to be an idiot… I'm sorry to all of you…”

Kieran smiled and patted her shoulder.

“S'alright, love. We all came out alive in the end, and that's what I'm grateful for,” he said.

“And I'd be a right prat if I didn't forgive you after you forgave me…” Marcus said.

“I do understand why you'd feel that way though, Harriet, I do… you _are_ famous, though we know you don't want to be. Coming to that conclusion is easy, especially after hearing what you did…” Hermione said, consolingly.

Harriet smiled a little. “Thanks… really. It feels so good to hear that. I can't even say,” Harriet went on, feeling a giant weight being lifted off her shoulders.

Even Ronnie was smiling now. “Good, just again as long as you promise never to be that thick about your friends again,” Ronnie demanded, though not very seriously.

Harriet nodded. “So, how did you all manage to get away to come after me?” she asked, curiously.

Ronnie shrugged. “It was pretty much chaos. After Quirrell came in and told everyone about the troll, everyone sort of panicked. Hermione and I slipped away first. Parvati and Lavender had told us where you were. They were worried about you too. So we got away, but Kieran and Marcus saw us.”

“Yeah, we followed. We were curious where those two were off to…” said Marcus with a chuckle.

“Then Scott spotted us heading off, so he started following us too,” Kieran finished.

“That's not all though,” Hermione said, leaning in conspiratorially. “Even though the troll was in the dungeon, and all the teachers were supposed to be going there to stop it (not that it mattered because that's not where the troll was, anyway) we saw Professor Snape heading towards the stairway to the second and third floors instead of down to the dungeons.”

“Professor Snape?” Harriet asked. “Well, that's weird… why was he going upstairs when the troll was supposed to be in the dungeons?”

“Well, did anyone else notice how he was limping when he came into the bathroom?” Hermione asked the group at large. Marcus and Ronnie both shook their heads, but Kieran and Harriet nodded.

“M-maybe he encountered the troll before it got to the bathroom and got hurt…?” asked Harriet, uncertainly.

“I don't think so… I mean… You didn't see what we did. We saw the troll only a minute at most after we saw Professor Snape, and Professor Snape was going in almost the opposite direction,” Hermione replied, looking troubled.

“Orrrrr he was looking for the troll and just twisted his ankle on some stairs…?” suggested Kieran in a slightly more reasonable voice.

Harriet moaned suddenly and held her stomach, flopping over onto her back as her stomach growled loudly.

“So hungry…” she moaned.

Marcus got to his feet. “I'll go get you some food from downstairs! What would you like?” he asked.

Harriet blushed. “Oh, no that's okay; I mean I can go—”

“Nah don't worry about it. I'll be back,” he said.

Before Harriet could say anymore, he turned and left. Harriet blushed a little, and Kieran chuckled.

“We were all so worried about you when Professor Quirrell came running in and told everyone about the troll in the dungeons. Everyone panicked! And then when we saw it go into the bathroom…” Hermione explained, putting a gentle hand on one of Harriet’s.

Almost on cue, the door to the dormitory opened, and Parvati and Lavender entered. Their faces were stricken, and they both hurried over, hugging Harriet tightly.

“Oh, Harriet! Marcus just told us about what happened! Oh, I'm so glad you're okay!” Parvati said, breathlessly.

“Me too! We should have been more insistent on getting you out of there! It's all our fault!” Lavender declared sounding miserable.

Harriet felt distinctly taken aback at this. “N-no, it was my fault… I was an idiot,” Harriet said. “Thank you for caring so much though, really,” Harriet said, very sincerely.

Parvati and Lavender sat down in the circle, Kieran and Hermione moving aside to give them room. As Harriet looked around at the smiling faces all around her, she remembered the words Professor McGonagall had spoken to them all on their very first night at Hogwarts, before they'd even been sorted: “ _…your houses will be your homes and nearly your family while you are here at Hogwarts_.”

_She was right_ , thought Harriet as she took them all in; _they are becoming my family. Maybe that's what it was about Dean, and why it was so awkward feeling?_

The door opened again, and Marcus stepped through, carefully holding a plate full of far more baked potato, roast turkey, green beans and pumpkin than Harriet thought she could eat in two dinners. As she looked up at him, Harriet noticed he had an odd expression on his face. As he stepped aside, she saw immediately what his expression was about. Dean and Seamus were right behind him.

They stopped in the doorway, both looking at Harriet with expressions much like Parvati and Lavender had worn. Before either of them could say anything, Harriet knew what to do. She got to her feet and crossed to them. Dean initially flinched, clearly thinking Harriet was going to start hitting him again. Instead, she hugged him tight around the middle, just below his chest, which was about the tallest she could reach on him. She felt him nervously pat her back.

Harriet let go and smiled up at him. “Sorry, I know I was hard on you… we're okay now though. I'm not mad or anything anymore, I promise,” she said.

Dean swallowed. “When Marcus told us what had happened—”

“It's fine. Just sit with us. We first years have to stick together, after all.”

“Hear, hear!” said Kieran and Ronnie in unison, both beaming.

Harriet took her plate of food from Marcus, thanking him as she sat down. They spent quite a bit of the rest of the evening talking and laughing. Harriet ended up only eating some of her food, the rest being primarily consumed by Ronnie and her endless appetite. Things just felt right again, all of them sitting there together and happy.

Eventually, Neville joined them as well, looking pleased when they all waved him over. Unfortunately, Neville's lousy luck caught up with them and shortly after that Percy burst in, looking scandalised and ordering the five girls out of the room. Ronnie argued back with him until Percy threatened to write their mother about how she was 'fraternising with boys' and Ronnie stomped out of the room, the rest of the girls following.

Despite Ronnie's irritable mood, Harriet, Hermione, Parvati and Lavender giggled as they bid the boys goodnight.

“Well, all in all, that was one of the more interesting nights I've ever had, I have to say…” said Hermione, rolling her eyes.

Harriet nodded, “To say the least, anyway.”

The girls made their way upstairs to their dormitory. It was only now, as Harriet saw her bed, her stomach full of food, and her heart full of affection for her friends that she finally began to feel tired. More than tired; she was exhausted. Once again, the following morning would be dedicated to her most frustrating class, Potions.

Her mind was abuzz with thought as she slid under her covers. Why had Professor Snape been running the opposite direction of where the troll had supposedly been? Had he really hurt his leg on something mundane like tripping on some stairs?

It was as she lay there thinking, that another curious thought struck her: Professor Quirrell. Why hadn't he been at the feast, to begin with? Why had he been in the dungeons to see the troll? Harriet supposed there had to have been a reason. As with Professor Snape's leg, it was probably just something as mundane as him wanting some ingredients for a Potion. As she felt sleep overtake her, she couldn't help but feel all the more suspicious of both of them.

## * * * *

Early in November, the weather began to cool. Despite the excitement over the troll, within only a couple of days, all talk immediately shifted back to everyone's favourite topic at Hogwarts: Quidditch.

Harriet's first game would be in a couple of weeks, and her nerves were steadily rising. Despite Wood's efforts to keep the fact that Harriet was the new Gryffindor Seeker a secret, nothing ever remained a secret at Hogwarts very long. The worst part about their first match, though Harriet should have expected it, was that it would be against Slytherin.

Harriet couldn't walk anywhere in the corridors without some random Slytherin calling taunts at her. Fred and George had pointed out most of the Slytherin Quidditch team to her during meals in the Great Hall. They were all bigger and stronger looking than anyone on the Gryffindor team, save perhaps Wood himself. However, even if he didn't smile very much, Oliver looked far more pleasant than any of their Slytherin opponents. The Slytherin captain, Marcus Flint, made Crabbe and Goyle look like babies.

Despite the taunts, Harriet didn't think she could be happier. Their little group of first-year Gryffindors were all becoming closer friends than ever. They nearly all came to Harriet's practices now in the evenings, though all but Hermione would watch. Hermione preferred to spend the time studying, but just the fact she was still there to support Harriet made her feel better.

She had spoken to Dean more thoroughly in private as well, explaining why she had been so upset and what it was that had kept her so distant even after she'd forgiven him. He'd apologised and seemed entirely sincere about it, and they agreed to be friends and leave it at that. It seemed to have done the trick. Harriet no longer felt quite so anxious around him, and Dean seemed to loosen up considerably.

She was even happier to see that Dean, Marcus and Ronnie were becoming rather good friends. As Dean had been raised as a Muggle, and Marcus was Muggleborn, both were avid fans of the Muggle sport of Football. Ronnie, who'd never been allowed to play Quidditch growing up, had become quite interested as well, mainly after Dean told her how it was one of the prominent women sports in the Muggle world.

Neville, though uninvolved with any of the little squabbles or the troll incident, was also becoming a more common member of their group. He was still quite shy and didn't talk a whole lot when they were all together, but he always seemed quite happy to be included in their little group.

The only slight annoyance, Harriet was finding, was coming from Parvati and Lavender. Both seemed to be of the opinion that Harriet was making a huge mistake in not pursuing Dean. While they were convinced that she and Dean were a good match, Harriet had to insist over and over again that she just really did not see Dean that way at all.

In an attempt to get them to drop the issue once and for all, Harriet told them she preferred older boys, like Fred and George, as well. This did not have quite the desired effect, however. While it ended their push to get Harriet to start going out with Dean, they instead turned their attention to any older boys that gave her any notice, such as Fred and George or Oliver Wood.

As November passed on, the effects of oncoming winter began to be seen on the grounds. Every morning the grounds were covered in frost, and the lake became bitterly cold. Even the castle had started to become chillier. Potions classes were nearly unbearable, all the way down in the dungeons.

Fortunately, Hermione was commonly able to prove why she was the best student of their year. The week before the Quidditch match, Hermione had learned how to create a hot, blue flame that could be carried in a jar. She would often create these while they waited for Herbology class to start, their little group standing around it, warm and happy.

It was during one of these instances that Harriet had something of a run-in with Professor Snape. While warming themselves after Herbology, Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione saw Professor Snape coming towards them from the grounds. He was still limping, and they huddled closer together around the flames, trying to block them from view, not sure if they were allowed. Their behaviour must have struck Professor Snape as suspicious, as he made his way over to them anyway.

“What is that you're holding, Weasley?” he asked brusquely. Ronnie was holding a book that Dean had lent her about football. Professor Snape snatched it from her promptly.

“Library books are not allowed out in the grounds, Weasley. Five points from Gryffindor.”

“But it's not a library book!” Ronnie said indignantly, but Professor Snape ignored her and began limping off to the school.

“That—that—eerrrr!” Ronnie exclaimed, stamping her feet in frustration as Professor Snape disappeared into the castle. “That wasn't a library book, and he knew it!”

Harriet patted Ronnie's shoulder, Ronnie looking miserable.

“Now Dean's going to think I stole it or lost it…” Ronnie muttered somewhat pathetically.

Harriet looked after Professor Snape and glowered. She made up her mind and started off. Hermione and Ronnie called after her, but she paid them no mind. It was her turn to be the brave one. She was going to confront Professor Snape.

She got into the castle and looked around. Professor Snape was nowhere to be seen. She wondered if he'd gone to the teacher's lounge. Harriet began heading up the stairs, taking a left on the second floor and heading for the lounge. As she went, she felt her heart beating faster. It would be the first time she had ever spoken directly to Professor Snape, and she knew it was very likely to end badly, though he was still not nearly as scary as the troll had been.

Finally, Harriet reached the lounge. She knocked once, but there was no response. She knocked again but still heard nothing. Slowly, she opened the door. She didn't immediately see anyone, and stepped inside, looking around. She had never been in the teachers' lounge before.

It was a finely appointed room, with comfortable looking chairs around a long table. There was a large wardrobe against the wall to the left, and a large, ornate stained-glass window. Harriet was just about to turn around to leave when she heard voices coming down the hall. Voices she recognised all too well: Professor Snape and Filch.

Somehow, Harriet knew she didn't want to be caught in the teachers' lounge by either of them. She quickly went to the wardrobe and climbed inside, closing the door and waiting, hoping they wouldn't need anything from inside it.

The door to the lounge opened again, and she heard the two men enter. There was the sound of a chair being drawn back and a flopping sound of a book being dropped on the table.

“Blasted dog… how are you supposed to watch all three heads at the same time?”

“You've got me, Professor. That was a right nasty bite, that was,” Filch muttered.

Professor Snape gasped in pain. Harriet worked up her courage and pushed open the door of the wardrobe just enough to peer through the crack. Professor Snape had his leg up on the table, his robes pulled back, revealing a nasty, painful looking bite mark. Filch was putting a foul-smelling ointment on it.

“Sorry Professor. Stings a bit but it'll help keep the wound clean.”

“Thank you, Filch,” Professor Snape muttered.

“Though I still don't see why you don't go to Madame Pomfrey—”

“I am not going anywhere that'll make my injury obvious…” Professor Snape growled, and Filch fell silent.

Harriet heard the door open again. She ducked back inside the cupboard as Professor Snape put his leg down and stood up rapidly.

“Ah, Severus, there you are. I was wondering if you could assist me for a moment?” came the squeaking voice of Professor Flitwick.

Professor Snape gave a grumble of assent and Harriet heard him limp out of the room, followed by the flat-footed sound of Filch's feet as they all left the room.

Harriet waited another half a minute before she finally pushed the door open. She peered around and was relieved to see she was indeed alone. She was even more relieved to see that Professor Snape had left the book on the table. Not wanting to waste another moment, she snatched the book off the table and darted from the lounge.

She ran all the way to Gryffindor Tower. She said the password, breathlessly, to the Fat Lady who swung aside to let her in. Ronnie and Hermione weren't in the common room, so she headed up to the dormitory. They weren't there either.

Harriet groaned and flopped back on the bed, trying to catch her breath. She had to tell them about what she'd overheard, as well as give Ronnie back the book. After only a few minutes, Hermione and Ronnie finally came in. Harriet leapt to her feet, excitedly.

“Oh, there you two are! You're not going to believe this!”

“You got it back!” Ronnie exclaimed in excitement.

“What? Oh! Yes,” Harriet said and handed Ronnie back the book. Ronnie hugged her tight in appreciation.

“What were you going to say, Harriet?” Hermione asked.

“I know how Professor Snape hurt his leg! It was that three-headed dog! It bit him! I was in the teachers' lounge, hiding in the wardrobe when Professor Snape and Filch came in. They were talking about it, and I think Filch was trying to help Professor Snape heal the wound. It looked nasty. Anyway, he said he didn't want to go to Madame Pomfrey because he didn't want to draw attention to it…”

“He was trying to get past that monster?” Ronnie asked, looking astonished. “But you know what that probably means…?”

Harriet nodded. “He must have been after what it's guarding…”

Hermione however, scoffed. “Oh please, just because you don't like him it’s no reason to jump to that conclusion. Not saying it's impossible—” she conceded before Harriet or Ronnie could retort, “—but Professor Snape didn't look like he was sneaking around that night. He looked more like… I think it's more likely he was trying to get to the third-floor before someone else…”

“But… who…?” asked Harriet.

Hermione simply shrugged. “I can't say… but it is all very fishy, I will agree,” She said, nodding. The three all looked at each other, the same question seeming to be on all their minds. Was Professor Snape attempting to steal something, or not? And if it wasn't him, then who was?

## * * * *

Harriet groaned as she sat up in bed. It took her a moment to realise why she was so tired. She had barely slept the night before. Today at noon she would be playing her very first Quidditch match. No more practices; no more strategy discussions with Wood. This was it.

She climbed out of bed and started getting dressed. She accidentally awoke Ronnie in the bed next to her when she tripped over while trying to slip her foot into one of her loafers because the heel didn't want to cooperate, crushing down.

She waited for Ronnie to get dressed too. They then had to wait for Hermione as well when she woke up before they all headed down to breakfast together. As she sat at the table, she just couldn't bring herself to eat. Her nerves seemed to have locked her up.

Everyone gave her encouragement (though it was tempered by Parkinson and Fanfarró calling taunts at her to the general amusement of the rest of the Slytherin table). Finally, at her friends coaxing, Harriet managed to eat a few eggs and some toast. This did cheer her a little, but all the while she still couldn't help but feel her nerves starting to get the better of her.

The Slytherin team's Seeker, Terrance Higgs, was much bigger than her, but she had a faster broom. However, Wood had explained to her that if they were both after the Snitch at the same time, he could probably knock her away. She'd have to rely on speed and manoeuvrability to beat him. As much as Wood had told her she'd need to be tough, she couldn't help but feel that at this stage in her playing career, it would not be her biggest asset.

At ten-thirty, the school began making their way down to the pitch. Her friends all went with her, surrounding her as she went like an escort, all of them with an eye towards any Slytherins. Wood had suggested that Harriet should go with a guard. Though she felt protected against Slytherin mischief, she was mostly just happy to have her friends supporting her.

Finally, her friends all bid her good luck as they headed for the stands, while Harriet made her way, flanked by Fred and George, to the changing room.

“You're gonna do great, kiddo,” Fred was muttering quietly, and giving her an encouraging smile.

“Don't worry about the Bludgers, let Fred and me worry about them,” George chimed in too.

“Keep an eye out for Flint; he likes to block other teams' Seekers. It gets him a penalty, but ten points are better than a hundred and fifty,” Fred added. “So, keep an eye out for him if you're chasing the Snitch.”

“Other than that, just keep flying the way we've seen you fly in practice, and we can't lose!” George finished, look cheerfully down at her.

Harriet did her best to smile back at them, though she was sure it probably came off as more of a grimace. They entered the changing room. Wood, Spinnet, Johnson and Bell were already there. The three girls waved at Harriet encouragingly, while Wood just nodded in greeting.

Harriet quickly went into the girls changing area and put on her robes. Wood was waiting, and the others were in a semi-circle around him as she re-joined the team and sat on the end by George.

Wood cleared his throat. “Alright men—”

“And women…” muttered Angelina, Katie and Alicia darkly.

“A-and women,” Wood corrected. “This is it—”

“ _The big one_!” cut in Fred.

“ _First game of the year_!” said George.

“ _This'll set the pace for the whole rest of our season_!”

“Shut up you two,” Wood barked at Fred and George.

“We know Oliver's speeches by heart after last year,” Fred whispered in Harriet's ear, Harriet doing her best not to giggle.

“I said shut up, now, this is our first match, and as always it's against Slytherin. Slytherin has held the Cup for seven years now, but now it's finally our turn. Johnson, Spinnet, Bell, I have never seen a team of Chasers like you three. Fred, George, just wreak havoc like you always do.”

“Roger, Captain!” Fred and George piped up, saluting.

“And Harriet; from all I've seen from your playing this past fall, you might be young and new at this, younger than any other player for the school in a hundred years, but it's not for no reason. Keep flying like you have, and nothing will stop us.”

“Don't forget yourself, Oliver!” piped up Alicia Spinnet.

“We're nothing without our Keeper, after all,” said Katie, nodding in agreement.

Wood looked slightly mollified and smiled. “Thanks, team. That's the one thing I think I will always like the most about this team, maybe we've never won the cup yet, but I like the support. It'll get us through in the end. Now, let's play the cleanest game we can, and let's win this match for Gryffindor!”

Harriet felt slightly sick again. She felt like she shouldn't have eaten breakfast after all as she looked up at the stern, determined face of Oliver Wood. She wanted so badly to prove him right, but she was so unsure she could. She was always picked last for teams growing up; if she was picked at all. Now people were telling her how great she was; it was all just too hard for her to believe.

She held her breath as they strode out onto the pitch. There was a roar of cheers from the stands. She looked eagerly towards the Gryffindor seats and felt her heart skip a beat as she saw a large sign waving in the air.

_Potter for President!_

 

Right below she recognised the faces of her other first-year friends. Her heart swelled, and she hitched a smile on her face as they reached the middle of the pitch.

Madame Hooch was there waiting for them. The Slytherins walked up at the same time. Harriet could almost feel the electric, mutual dislike in the air between Wood and Flint as they shook hands. They were both wearing forced expressions of calm, though looking at their hands, it was clear they were both trying to crush the other's fingers.

“Mount your brooms,” Madame Hooch said.

Harriet swung her leg up over her Nimbus 2000. She patted its handle gently as Madame Hooch finally blew her whistle. Harriet kicked off. She was pleased to see that she climbed much faster than the Slytherin Seeker, and she rocketed off, trying to put some distance between them. The match had begun.

Down below her, Harriet could vaguely hear the commentary by Fred and George's best friend, Lee Jordan. Professor McGonagall, she was told, often sat right next to Lee as he did this, as Lee was somewhat prone to being unbiased during Gryffindor games in particular, but also to swearing if things didn't go Gryffindor's way.

The wind howled in her ears as she kept her eye out for the Snitch. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Higgs doing the same, the two circling the middle of the pitch as they searched.

Then a Bludger seemed to have focused on Harriet. It looked like a cannonball as it came at her, but Fred was hot on its tail. Harriet remembered Fred and George's instructions on avoiding them. She waited until it was about ten feet away then bunted the nose of her broom straight down. She shot downwards while the Bludger kept rocketing skywards, moving too fast to manoeuvre after her.

“Well done!” Fred called as he caught up with the Bludger.

He whacked it hard with his bat and sent it towards one of the Slytherin Chasers, causing him to drop the Quaffle. Angelina caught it and promptly scored a goal. Harriet did a loop, punching the air in excitement before she resumed circling the pitch.

Suddenly, she caught a glint of gold. She didn't react at first. She remembered Wood warning her that jumping on a Snitch too quickly could alert the other Seeker to its location. That could give them the advantage if they were closer to the Snitch than her. It was good she heeded the advice, as a closer look soon revealed that it had only been George’s wrist-watch. She would have looked right stupid chasing that.

Down below, listening hard to hear the commentary over the wind, Harriet could hear the game was neck and neck.

Just then, Lee Jordan called loudly. “Wait a moment, was that the Snitch!?”

Harriet paused and saw it. Across the pitch, so did Higgs. It was slightly closer to Harriet, and she locked her hands tight on her broom and dived. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Higgs diving too. He looked frantic, realising he was at a complete disadvantage to get there in time.

Harriet only managed to look just in time. A hulking green blur was coming at her fast from the other side. Harriet ducked and just managed to get down in enough time to avoid Marcus Flint colliding with her. As Flint passed, Harriet felt something grab and tug hard on the back of her robes, nearly yanking her off her broomstick. She shrieked with shock but managed to hold onto her _Nimbus_. Flint had grabbed her robes, trying to tug her off.

Madame Hooch's whistle sounded instantly. She flew up to Flint, giving him an outraged tongue-lashing before awarding a penalty to Gryffindor. Harriet climbed back to height. She kicked herself a little for having not spotted Flint coming sooner. Meanwhile, in all the confusion, the Snitch had vanished again.

She could hear Lee Jordan again.

“And more totally expected, utterly underhanded dirty cheating from the Slyther—”

“ _Jordan_ …” Professor McGonagall warned.

Harriet smiled to herself, hearing all the boos against the Slytherins from not just the Gryffindors, but the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw stands as well.

As play resumed, Harriet suddenly felt something odd. Her broomstick gave a funny lurch that she hadn't caused. She looked around. She was at least twenty feet higher in the air than the next closest player, and about fifty feet away. There were no Bludgers anywhere that she could see either.

She flew another thirty feet when it happened yet again, and then again. It was at that moment she realised; her broom was trying to buck her off. Harriet gripped even tighter to the broom handle with only one hand, trying to wave to Wood to get him to call a time-out.

However, her broom instead jumped even higher, and this time it almost did unseat her. Harriet lay flat against the handle now, wrapping her arms tight around it as the Nimbus began to vibrate very hard. She closed her eyes tightly, wondering what on earth could be happening to the broom. She opened her eyes a little to see Fred and George trying to reach her.

Harriet could feel every eye in the stands on her. She squeaked as the broom lurched again, unseating her legs and leaving her dangling by her hands. It seemed as though the broom was fighting with itself at times, sometimes it was remaining still and unmoving, and others it was bucking and shaking wildly. After that lurch, it paused again, and Harriet used it to wrap her legs back up around the broom, clinging to it tighter than ever.

She could see Fred and George circling underneath her now, as any time they got too near, the broom would climb higher. As she looked down, she realised she was now nearly a hundred fifty feet in the air. If she fell and Fred and George did not catch her, she was as good as dead.

Then, as suddenly as it started, her broom seemed to come back to itself. She had complete control once again. She sat upright finally, just in time to feel a pair of wings buzz straight past her nose. Without even a moment's hesitation, Harriet spun on her Nimbus and dived.

Her eyes were locked on the little golden ball and its fluttering wings as she went. Her whole focus was on catching the Snitch and ending the game once and for all. She reached out with her hand, but the Snitch dodged just as she was about to close her fingers. She lost sight of it but felt something hard smack her right in the chest just above her heart.

Harriet pulled back hard on the broom handle and shrieked in shock as she felt something buzzing against her sides. It tickled madly. The Snitch was inside her robes! Harriet wriggled and finally managed to set down on the ground. She scrambled in her robes, trying to find the buzzing ball. It was proving extremely difficult as the Snitch's buzzing wings were tickling her mercilessly. Finally, it shot out, but it wasn't fast enough. Harriet saw it and snatched out her hand, catching it and holding it high in the air over her head.

“I've got it! I've got the Snitch!” Harriet called.

The stands all erupted in cheers. It was the first time Gryffindor had beaten Slytherin since Charlie Weasley. The rest of her team flew down to her, and Fred and George hoisted her up on their shoulders, yelling themselves hoarse with excitement. Marcus Flint had landed by Madame Hooch, apparently trying to argue but it made no difference, Harriet had caught the Snitch, the game was over, and they had won.

The real reward, however, was the beaming faces of her friends as they ran down to her, jumping up and down and cheering. Kieran was holding his shillelagh high over his head and whooping, Scott standing nearby, watching nervously in case his friend's leg gave out and he fell.

Finally, Fred and George let Harriet down, and she joined her friends. They collected her broom and were about to head back to Gryffindor Tower when Hermione pulled Harriet aside with Ronnie.

“We need to talk…” she muttered into Harriet's ear, giving her a sombre look. Harriet nodded, feeling bemused as Hermione and Ronnie both started leading her down towards Hagrid's hut.

## * * * *

Down in Hagrid's hut, Harriet was finding the story of what had happened down in the stands during the match very hard to believe. According to Hermione, soon after Harriet's broom had started doing whatever it had been doing when it was nearly throwing her off, Hermione had grabbed Hagrid's binoculars and spotted Professor Snape, surreptitiously pointing his wand up at Harriet and muttering, clearly performing a jinx.

Hermione had then run over and cast some of her little magic flames on Snape's robes, accidentally knocking Professor Quirrell over as she did. The moment she had done that and Professor Snape had realised he was on fire, Harriet's broom had gone back to normal immediately.

“Professer Snape? Jinx Harriet's broom? Rubbish,” Hagrid said as he set down the teapot. “Why would he do that?”

Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all looked at each other.

“Well, we think… we think he might be trying to steal whatever it is that three-headed dog's guarding in the third-floor corridor, the thing you took from Gringotts,” Harriet said, sheepishly. She still didn't entirely believe any of it herself, having not seen any of it happening.

Hagrid looked astonished and blinked his beetle-black eyes.

“F-fluffy?! H-how do you know about Fluffy?” He asked, stuttering a little.

“Fluffy?!” Asked Ronnie, looking faint at the idea such a massive, terrifying animal could have such a name.

“Yeah, he's mine, bought him last year off a chap I'd met from Greece. Lent him to Professer Dumbledore to guard the—” Hagrid started to say but paused, catching himself.

Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all looked up at him with anxious, hopeful faces as he glared down at them all.

“No, I'm not sayin' no more. Yer not to be knowin' what Fluffy's guardin' and Professer Snape isn't trying ter steal nothin', and even if he was, why would 'e try and jinx Harriet's broom because of it?”

“Well… we do know he tried to get past, er, Fluffy, on Halloween…” said Hermione, choosing her words carefully. “He was limping, and Harriet overheard him in the teachers' lounge, he was asking Filch, 'how are you supposed to watch all three heads at the same time?' while Filch bandaged his leg from the bite.”

Harriet nodded in agreement, though she still felt troubled. “But, Professor Snape couldn't have been trying to kill me because of that… I mean… he never knew I was inside the wardrobe… did he…?”

Hermione and Ronnie simply shrugged. Harriet felt troubled. What if Professor Snape did know she was in the cupboard, listening?

“I'm tellin' yeh, yer all wrong on this. You three ferget about Fluffy, and you ferget about what he's guardin'. That's between Professer Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel!”

Hagrid paused.

“I shouldn'ta said that! You ferget about that name too!” he said, looking at them all sternly.

“Who's Nicolas Flamel?” Harriet asked, hopefully. Hagrid shook his head furiously.

“Yer not gettin' no more about it outer me, now, let's talk about the match eh? The good bits, caught your first Snitch and won yer first game, Harriet, eh?” Hagrid said.

Harriet wanted to press him on the subject of Nicolas Flamel, but somehow as she looked up at the shaggy face, the beetle-black eyes glinting in an unmistakable smile of pride, she felt her resolve ebb away and just smiled back, and blushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	9. A Hogwarts Christmas

“It is funny how often the thing we seek most can be so conveniently hidden right before our very eyes. But is it truly hidden, or do we choose not to see it?”

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

As always, there was at least one blemish on whatever happiness Harriet felt. This time, because of Slytherin's loss at Harriet's hands, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, and Pixie Fanfarró were nastier than ever.

“You know, Potter, the idea is to _catch_ the Snitch. Tactics like that, I think, are better reserved for a brothel than the Quidditch pitch,” Draco drawled at her the day after the match when she passed him in the corridor.

Harriet felt her face go bright red as Crabbe and Goyle guffawed, and Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró both cackled taunts after her. Usually, Malfoy and his cronies were content to leave insults at that and move on to a new subject.

“Look out everyone,” cried Pansy Parkinson as Harriet walked into the Great Hall for dinner that night, “here comes Harlot Potter, the girl who loved the Snitch too much!”

“Careful, everyone hide your Snitches, she just can't help herself!” shrieked Pixie Fanfarró with glee.

Harriet watched all the faces in the Great Hall turn towards her. Despite the size of the hall, Harriet began to feel claustrophobic. Before she could even think, she ran from the room, ignoring the calls of her friends. She felt tears burning in her eyes as she ran. She only looked up when she turned a corner and hit something. She bounced back a couple of steps and found herself looking up into the aged face of the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore.

“Well now, what are these tears?” he asked, leaning down to look at her more closely.

Despite his age, there was a sense of immense power and life within Professor Dumbledore; particularly in his eyes, which were the brightest blue Harriet had ever seen. They took her in with such intelligence that they seemed to be looking straight through her like he could read her every thought as he looked into her eyes.

Harriet found she couldn't answer and merely hung her head, holding back sobs. She was sick of it: sick of being taunted every time she stepped out in public, and sick of the fact that those jeering voices immediately tainted everything she should feel proud of. She'd thought coming here would be a break from all of that.

Harriet looked up at the Headmaster again, about to respond and tell him all she'd been feeling when the sound of pattering feet came up from behind her. Harriet turned to see Hermione, Ronnie, and, of all people, Neville, finally catch up with her. Neville seemed distinctly winded from the running.

“Harriet, are you alright?” Hermione asked, her expression was somewhat pained.

“Yeah, I'm…” Harriet started to respond but trailed off, seeing the somewhat awestruck faces of her three friends as they looked up at the Headmaster. Harriet felt his hand rest gently on her shoulder.

“My, my, what loyal friends you have, Miss Potter. You are lucky to have them, as I'm sure you know. However, if you three would not mind, I would like a mere moment with Miss Potter here, as sometimes even when we need our friends, an outside party to our pains is the best medicine,” Dumbledore said.

His voice was profound and calming, and somehow, just hearing it, Harriet started to feel a little better. Hermione, Ronnie and Neville all looked at each other before they all looked back up at Professor Dumbledore and slowly nodded in agreement. Professor Dumbledore smiled at them.

“Good. I assure you I shall return Miss Potter in full health: emotionally, physically, and in all other respects as well,” Professor Dumbledore said and slowly turned Harriet away.

“I'm… I'm sorry sir…” Harriet muttered under her breath, starting to feel like she'd been apologising to people quite a lot lately.

“For what, might I ask? You have no reason to be sorry to me, nor to anyone. You know you have truly done nothing wrong, I am sure,” Professor Dumbledore said in his calm, soothing voice.

Harriet nodded and wiped her nose on her sleeve. “I just… I don't know… I feel like I have to… all the time…”

Professor Dumbledore nodded solemnly. “You are a good person who has had dark things thrust upon you. It's easy for people in your predicament to feel they must have done something wrong to deserve it, and so we apologise—unnecessarily—thinking it will assuage our feelings. However, more often than not, it simply makes it easier for us to feel even guiltier later on for that which we should not feel the slightest sorry for.”

Harriet nodded looking up at Professor Dumbledore as they strode along.

“So, do not apologise for what you do not have to, Harriet. You will feel yourself become a stronger person for it. Carry your head high, and keep marching through the storm. You have done it most of your life, I know, but now you are in a new place, and you have to adjust all over again. You will get there in time, Harriet, rest assured.”

Harriet felt her mood brightening more as she kept watching the Headmaster. She felt safe beside him, like nothing in the world could ever cause her harm with Professor Dumbledore there. She realised then how silly she had been, letting those taunts of Malfoy, Parkinson and Fanfarró hurt her like that.

No one else had laughed at her. Last night in the Gryffindor common room everyone had praised her for what she'd done; seeing the Snitch and chasing it so well even after nearly being killed by her broomstick. Wood had tears in his eyes because of how happy he was that Harriet had led them to their first victory over Slytherin in so long.

Yes, she had been very silly letting those taunts get to her. She was a good Seeker, a great Seeker in spite of her age. She looked back up at Professor Dumbledore again and smiled.

Professor Dumbledore smiled back and patted Harriet on the shoulder again. “Now then, Miss Potter, I suggest you return to your friends here, who have been waiting so patiently for you and enjoy a nice dinner to give you a good full stomach before you get a full night's sleep. It does not do one well to dwell over-long on the pains of our lives or in matters for which we have little need to concern ourselves.”

At these last words, Harriet looked up at Professor Dumbledore and found his piercing blue eyes looking right back into hers again. His previous statement had been rather odd and out of place, almost like a warning. Did he know she knew about Flamel? Or about someone trying to steal whatever it was Hagrid had taken from Gringotts?

Harriet turned again as she thought to look where they were going and realised that they had returned right to where Hermione, Ronnie and Neville had first caught up with them. They were all smiling at her now, seeing how much happier she looked.

Professor Dumbledore smiled at them all warmly. “Please escort Miss Potter back to the Great Hall, where she will assuredly be a much happier dinner companion. Take care all of you,” Professor Dumbledore said and turned and strode away from them, down the corridor.

Harriet watched him before turning back to her friends. Her first impulse was to apologise, but remembering Professor Dumbledore's words, she refrained and merely said:

“Don't worry, I'm fine now, I promise.”

Her friends just smiled and nodded, before Ronnie and Hermione each looped an arm around hers, and they started towards the Great Hall.

“You should have seen it… it was bizarre,” Ronnie was saying, looking at Harriet with wide and amazed eyes. “I've never seen anyone yell like that before…”

“Really? I bet Professor McGonagall was furious,” Harriet said, imagining the sight of her head of house berating the two Slytherin girls.

“No, it wasn't McGonagall!” Ronnie exclaimed and leaned in, looking at Harriet significantly. “Though she did get out of her chair and was about to start over there to yell at them, no mistake… but no, it was Snape!”

“Professor Snape?!” Harriet asked in astonishment, much louder than she'd intended, startling the pudgy Hufflepuff ghost, The Fat Friar, who was floating by, sending him tumbling through a wall.

“Yeah! He looked ruddy livid with them! It was scary! He gave them both detention!” Ronnie went on, Hermione and Neville nodding in agreement.

Harriet bit her lip in thought. His actions seemed to help rule Professor Snape out as a suspect, but what if it was an act? What if he was now pretending to be kind to Harriet so that people wouldn't be so suspicious of him?

Despite Ronnie and Hermione's suspicions about Professor Snape, and even after his apparent outburst at Parkinson and Fanfarró, he seemed to continue to pay Harriet no mind following the first Quidditch match. He did look, perhaps, slightly surlier towards Gryffindor students on the whole, but as ever, Harriet continued to be a complete non-entity to him. Despite her initial anxiety, Harriet was finding Snape's actions to be less bothersome now, as well as finding her interest in Potions waning, which was starting to hurt her marks in the class.

Aside from Ronnie and Hermione, and to a lesser extent Harriet, nobody else in the group seemed suspicious about Professor Snape in the least. But then, none of them had seen what Hermione had seen through the binoculars, and they had all been so focused on watching Harriet it seemed that they didn't even notice Hermione running over to set Professor Snape on fire either. They were all even more impressed by Professor Snape's telling off of Harriet's two least favourite Slytherin girls. As a result, Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione kept all of their suspicions to themselves during rest of the fall term.

As the Christmas season approached, and all the cheerfulness and excitement brought on by the thought of snow and home, Harriet found it difficult in the remaining weeks to be all that worried about any of these suspicions about Snape and his possible attempts at thievery. What she was worried about, however, was finding out who Nicolas Flamel was.

Hermione, Ronnie and Harriet had decided not to ask their friends about this little issue, due to the secrecy surrounding whatever it was Fluffy was guarding. They were keeping Flamel a secret not so much because they did not trust their friends to stay quiet, but rather because there was more at stake than just the object being guarded in the third-floor corridor. There was also the fact that if anyone found out that Hagrid had told them about the stone, there was the possibility it would get Hagrid in trouble, which was the last thing any of the three wanted.

Harriet wasn't sure what was driving her obsession with finding out about Flamel. She still could swear she had heard the name Flamel before. As they searched, Harriet couldn't help but remember something Professor Dumbledore had said to her in passing: “It does not do one well to dwell over-long on the pains of our lives or in matters for which we have little need to concern ourselves.”

She still didn't know if it had been a warning or not, and if it was, what was it a warning about? Was it about Snape, or Flamel, or even both?

Because of this, the three tried to keep their searches for Flamel a secret, not even daring to ask Madame Pince, the chief librarian, about him, though they were sure she would know where they could find the information they wanted. They didn't want to risk Dumbledore finding out what they were up to.

It seemed that Ronnie and Hermione were just as obsessed with finding Flamel as Harriet was. However, their determination came from wanting to keep Professor Snape from stealing whatever it was that Fluffy was guarding. Harriet still felt uneasy about putting all that blame on Professor Snape, but she didn't want to question her closest friends' judgement either.

Almost all of their free time, in the weeks following the first match, was devoted to the library. They looked through every single book they could think of that dealt with modern magical discoveries and through every recent cutting of the Daily Prophet they could find but found Flamel nowhere. Hermione was beginning to get exasperated as well, as so far the library had never let her down when she needed to find something.

However, Harriet soon felt herself losing interest in finding Flamel. There was just too much happiness in the air. Indeed, her only slight worry right now was her broomstick, which was being inspected by Madame Hooch and Professor Flitwick. Would they confiscate it, should they find it had been sabotaged?

By early December, it had finally started snowing. Harriet had never had friends to play in the snow with before, and she found it quite enjoyable. Fred and George seemed to be in their element in the snow and could hit someone in the head with a hand-thrown snowball from twenty paces.

Harriet had to admit, for two boys coming from a wizarding family, Fred and George seemed oddly good at doing things without magic. According to Ronnie, it was because of how they weren't allowed to do magic outside school. Fred and George seemed to have taken solemn vows to carry on creating their mischief whether they could use magic or not.

One day, just before the winter holidays, Professor McGonagall had gone around the Gryffindor table, taking down the names of Gryffindor students who would be staying for the Christmas holidays. Harriet had signed her name down excitedly and was even more excited when Ronnie, Fred and George also wrote their names. Ronnie explained how their parents were going to Romania to visit Charlie.

Harriet was beside herself with excitement to be staying at Hogwarts. She was going to spend Christmas away from the Dursleys, and she was going to spend it with her best friend without Draco, Parkinson and Fanfarró. She knew that those three would be gone from of one of Malfoy's indirect taunts he would give in Potions when he wanted to wound without directly attacking someone.

“It must be so sad for the students who have to stay here for Christmas… not having any family at home who want them around…” Draco said, his eyes sparkling maliciously at Harriet as he said this during their final Potions lesson before the winter holiday.

To Malfoy's disappointment, Harriet was able to ignore him now. The words Professor Dumbledore had said to her the day after the first match seemed to have nested inside of her. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, Harriet found herself feeling even happier about it than usual. She didn't want to go back to Privet Drive any more than the Dursleys wanted her back. She wanted to be here at Hogwarts with her friends, enjoying herself as much as she could.

In her eagerness to start her holidays, Harriet accidentally knocked over her mortar and pestle. She reached down to pick it up and was just about to add her final ingredient when Marcus reached over from his table and grabbed her hand.

“Don't!” Marcus hissed in a whisper. “Malfoy threw something into your potion when you weren't looking!”

Harriet looked over at Malfoy, who was looking torn between pride at having messed up Harriet's potion and disappointment that Marcus had spotted him doing it and told Harriet.

Harriet looked down at her potion, knowing it was now ruined, as instead of the lovely turquoise colour and soupy consistency it was supposed to be turning, it was becoming the colour and texture of mud. Harriet slowly raised her hand.

“P-Professor Snape…?” she asked softly, just loud enough to be heard over the sounds of bubbling cauldrons. Professor Snape, who had been walking amongst the Slytherins with his back turned when Malfoy had thrown whatever it was into her cauldron (Harriet wasn't foolish enough to try and fish it out herself), paused and slowly turned around to finally, for the first time in Potions class, look at Harriet.

“Yes, Potter?” he asked in an oddly constrained voice.

“I…” she shot a glance at Malfoy, and, knowing she'd have no proof of Malfoy having done anything, said, “My potion sir, something went wrong with it…”

The entire room was dead silent at this point. Professor Snape continued to look at her and finally strode slowly across the class toward her. Harriet swallowed a little as she looked up at him as he looked at her cauldron. Professor Snape took out his wand and gave it a casual flick and instantly, her potion vanished, leaving her cauldron cleaner than Harriet had ever seen it.

“Start again, Potter, you will stay after to complete it. Carry on,” Professor Snape said and without another word strode back across the classroom. The Gryffindors all glared at Professor Snape, but Harriet shook her head.

“It's fine,” she hissed, “I'd rather that than get a zero…” she said as she finally set back to work, remaking her Potion all over again, and ignoring the victorious smirk Malfoy was wearing. Somehow, she felt reinvigorated now in Potions. Professor Snape had acknowledged her. He had spoken to her, and even if he hadn't exactly been kind, he had at least given her the chance to do the potion again.

Finally, Harriet completed the potion. She called to Professor Snape from across the Potions classroom to say that she was finished. Professor Snape didn't even look up from his parchment he'd been writing on as he nodded.

“Very well, Potter, you may go.”

“But, don't you want—”

“I said, 'you may go'.”

Harriet blushed and quickly started cleaning up her potion and packing up her equipment. Hermione, Ronnie and Kieran were all waiting for her outside the door.

“You survived, eh?” Kieran asked as she left. Harriet nodded and shrugged.

“Wasn't that bad, I mean only cost me fifteen minutes, and I'm staying here anyway aren't I?” Harriet asked. Kieran had an odd expression on his face at her words and nodded. He didn't say another word as they made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower, nor the rest of the night.

It was a slightly subdued night for the little group of first years. They had gotten so close over the term so far, and now they were going their separate ways. Even if it was only for a few weeks, it was still quite some time.

“Well, it's only the holidays,” Seamus tried to say in a bolstering tone to the group at large. “We'll be back before we know it.”

“Yeah, and we'll spend all our time afterwards complaining about how break wasn't nearly long enough!” Dean joked, causing their entire group to break out into laughter and giggles. As they did, Harriet couldn't help but notice Lavender giving Dean a rather radiant smile and felt herself laugh a little more on the inside. Apparently, Lavender at least had decided to take Harriet's advice back about going after boys herself.

However, Harriet also couldn't help but notice that Kieran wasn't joining in the laughing. She kept stealing glances at him, trying to figure out what it was that was making him so much sadder than the others. She decided to ask him tomorrow before the Hogwarts Express left.

The following morning, Harriet awoke with a start. At first, she was worried she had overslept, but as she heard Parvati and Lavender packing outside her bed curtains, she knew she still had time to find Kieran before the train left. She quickly slipped out of bed, and after straightening out her hair, she got dressed.

She headed down the stairs into the common room. It was full of other students from all years saying their last goodbyes. She looked around frantically, wanting to find Kieran and find out what was wrong.

She was sure it was something she had said to him, as he had gone almost silent right after she'd come out of Potions. But she just couldn't think of what it was. Explicitly, she had said that would have upset him. She was sure he was probably a little sad they wouldn't be seeing each other for three full weeks, but he had seemed quite cheerful as she had come out of Potions.

Finally, she spotted Marcus who was talking to Neville near the fire. They smiled up at her as she approached.

“Hey, have either of you two seen Kieran?” She asked, looking hopefully down at them in their armchairs. Marcus and Neville's faces both fell, and they looked at each other before looking back up at her.

“Oh… Kieran already left with Scott and his family, they came and got them early this morning…” Marcus explained, looking apologetic.

Harriet's heart sank. “Oh… thanks…” she said and slowly turned away. He was gone already; she'd missed her chance to ask him. Harriet nodded and sank into the nearest armchair. She talked a little with Neville and Marcus as she sat until finally the oldest prefect (Percy was looking somewhat disgruntled it was not him) announced that the Hogwarts Express had arrived and it was time to make their way down to the train.

She made her way through her group of friends, giving out hugs to everyone and wishing farewells with the promise of Christmas cards and gifts to everyone. Hermione pulled Ronnie and Harriet aside to remind them to use the time over break to continue searching for Flamel.

“You know, maybe you could ask your parents, Hermione, maybe they'd know, and they wouldn't say anything to Dumbledore!” Ronnie suggested, suddenly looking excited.

“Maybe,” Hermione replied with a slight eye roll “Though doubtful, as they're dentists…”

“Oh yeah…” Ronnie muttered, sheepishly.

Harriet laughed before she finally turned to give hugs to Seamus and Dean who had just walked up. It was as she gave Dean his hug that Harriet felt realisation hit her like a kick in the gut. Kieran had sounded upset after she had said how she would be staying here and it wasn't that big of a de she hadn't left with the rest of them. And a horrible worry finally crept into her mind. Did Kieran fancy her too?

## * * * *

“You could just write him a letter you know?”

It was the first day after everyone had left. Harriet was sitting in the common room with Ronnie playing Wizard's Chess. She found it considerably more interesting than regular chess because in regular chess the pieces didn't move or talk. She wasn't terribly good at it, though she supposed it was partly because in her dark mood she got an odd, grim pleasure out of watching Ronnie's white pieces smash her black ones and drag them off the board.

Harriet shook her head.

“No… it would sound stupid in a letter… ugh, why do boys have to do that?”

“Do what?” Ronnie asked.

“Fancy you!” Harriet explained, a little exasperated.

Ronnie furrowed her brow a little. “Well, not me…” she said in a slightly gruff tone.

Harriet suddenly had the strong urge to hit herself in the head with something hard.

“Oh, Ronnie, sorry I didn't—”

Ronnie laughed and shook her head.

“Forget it, Harriet, honestly, you know me, I find the whole boys thing stupid,” Ronnie said, looking completely sincere.

Harriet nodded. “I don't really like, I don't know… fancy them much I guess either… I just don't want anything else to mess up what we have…”

Harriet sighed looking around. It was one of those times she would have greatly enjoyed having Fred and George pop in to give her some titbit of wisdom about boys, but they were nowhere to be seen.

Ronnie shrugged. “Kieran's a pretty forgiving bloke; I'm sure he'll get over whatever it is.”

Harriet nodded just in time to see Ronnie's queen dragging her last knight off the board. Seeking now to change the subject to something more comfortable, especially now they were in fact alone, Harriet asked. “So, I've been thinking… maybe Flamel's in the restricted section?”

Ronnie looked up from the board.

“Of the library you mean?”

“Yeah,” Harriet replied.

Ronnie looked thoughtful.

“Maybe… but even the restricted section's huge, and Madame Pince would never let us look in there without a teacher's note…”

“I know…” Harriet admitted feeling a little defeated. “It was just a thought…”

“Well, a good one,” Ronnie said, smiling a little trying to cheer Harriet up. Harriet smiled a little appreciatively.

However, as the first week of the holidays began, Harriet was finding it hard to care all that much about Flamel once again. She was just having too much fun. Perhaps Ronnie had said something to them, but Fred and George seemed to have made it their mission during the holidays to cheer Harriet up.

Tormenting Percy was their most common method of doing so, even though Harriet most often found herself trying to tell them to leave him alone, though laughing all the same. Percy seemed to be even more annoyed whenever Harriet told the two to leave him alone, taking it as offensive that a first-year would have to stick up for him.

The best surprise, however, was Christmas morning. Harriet awoke and stretched and suddenly gasped as she saw a pile of presents at the foot of her bed. She hadn't been expecting anything.

“Morning, sunshine,” said Ronnie, as she slid out of her bed and immediately dived into her presents.

Harriet smiled, seeing all the names of her friends on the cards and packages. She had sent everyone cards as well, ones she and Ronnie had made themselves. Fortunately, as during the holidays most of the other students were gone, Harriet and Ronnie had ample amounts of school owls to use to send all their cards, so that poor Hedwig wouldn't have to carry all those letters to all those places at once.

Her heart skipped a beat as she saw a card from Kieran amongst them. She snatched it up and immediately tore it open and started to read. Kieran's card made her smile softly. On the front was a little picture of a snowy village, with moving snowflakes and flickering fireplaces in each of the tiny houses.

 

_Harriet,_

_Sorry for how I was acting that last day there. I was just a bit put out because it didn't sound like you were going to miss us, but I know you didn't mean it that way. I hope this didn't make things too uncomfortable, and I hope this letter makes it all better._

_Hope your holidays are fantastic!_

_Kieran_

 

Kieran's card had indeed made her feel better. She set it aside, going through the rest. There was a Christmas card from each of her friends, and each made her smile more, even the one from the Dursleys with a fifty pence piece taped to it. Though to be fair, it was more Ronnie's fascination with the fifty pence piece that made her smile than the letter itself.

Finally, she turned to the packages. The first she picked up was crudely wrapped and turned out to be from Hagrid. It was a small wooden flute of sorts that looked like Hagrid had made it himself. When she blew on it, it sounded vaguely like an owl hooting, though in a soft, lyrical way.

She picked up the next parcel, which was soft and squashy. From her bed, Ronnie groaned.

“Oh no…”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“I'm sure I know who that one's from. It's from Mum; she's sent you a 'Weasley Jumper'.”

Harriet blinked. “A what?”

“A 'Weasley Jumper', every year Mum makes us all jumpers. I told her you weren't expecting anything this year for Christmas so…”

Harriet looked at the parcel and immediately tore it open. It was indeed a jumper, a green one, and came with a note.

 

_Harriet Dear,_

_Ronnie told me that you weren't expecting anything for Christmas, so I decided to add you to the family a bit. I picked this colour because it matches your eyes so well._

_Hope you're having a wonderful holiday,_

_Mrs Molly Weasley_

 

Harriet felt her face grow warm as she looked at the jumper. She pulled off her own and immediately put the new one on. It was very warm, and fit her perfectly. She giggled softly.

“Awww, that was so nice… thanks, Ronnie,” Harriet said, beaming. Ronnie blushed but shrugged.

“Thank Mum, not me,” Ronnie said, putting on her purple one.

“So, I wonder who this one's from then?” Harriet asked no one in particular as she picked up the final parcel. It was very carefully and neatly wrapped, though it felt soft like the jumper had been. Harriet opened it carefully and a smooth, silky fabric spilt out onto her bed.

“What on earth…?” Harriet asked, picking up the strange material. From her bed, Ronnie gasped.

“No way… I mean no way!”

Ronnie leapt off her bed and quickly strode over to Harriet's.

“What?” Harriet asked, bemused by Ronnie's excitement and the strange material.

“It's… it can't be…”

“What?!” Harriet asked again, more insistently.

“I think that's… an invisibility cloak!”

Harriet looked down at it, amazed. “An invisibility cloak?”

“Quick!” Ronnie exclaimed with excitement, “Put it on!”

Harriet got up off her bed and opened the fabric more. It was indeed a cloak, made from the strangest material Harriet had ever seen or felt in her life. It didn't feel like cloth; it was so fine a consistency it seemed to flow like water through her fingers. Harriet quickly pulled it up over her head and smoothed it out.

Ronnie gasped. “It is! Look!”

Harriet looked down and jumped in surprise. Her body was gone. She quickly moved in front of her mirror and gasped. All she could see was her head floating in mid-air.

“Wow…” she moaned in awe.

“Look!” Ronnie exclaimed and bent down over Harriet's bed, picking up a small card. Harriet pulled off the cloak and crossed back over to Ronnie, taking the note. The message on the note was written in impeccable but loopy handwriting:

 

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is the time that it was finally returned to you, its rightful owner. Use it well._

 

Harriet turned the card over, puzzling. There was no name on the note to say who had given it to her. She sat down, just staring at the note.

“Everything alright?” Ronnie asked, concerned.

Harriet nodded. “Oh yeah,” she replied, though she didn't look up from the note. The cloak was her father's? If so, why hadn't it been returned to her before? But then she supposed if no one knew she was living with the Dursleys they wouldn't have known where to send it until now. Even so, the questions it raised intrigued her greatly.

“You're sure?”

“Oy! You lot!” Came a shout from down the stairs. “Hurry up and join the fun! And jumper on, Ronnie!”

Harriet smiled a little, finally distracted from the note. She set it down and put away the cloak in her trunk before she and Ronnie headed downstairs. Fred and George were beaming, both wearing home-made jumpers as well. Fred's had a large letter F on it, and George's had a G.

“Hey! Harriet got a jumper too, eh?” Fred asked cheerfully.

“Yours is nicer than ours though,” George said, leaning down and inspecting Harriet's sweater in a way that made Harriet slightly uncomfortable. “Suppose she makes more of an effort if the giftee's not related…”

Harriet blushed uncomfortably, but Fred and George merely smiled.

“You didn't get a letter on yours either,” he said, looking at Harriet's jumper. “She must think you don't forget your name.”

“We're not stupid though; we know our names are Gred and Feorge!”

Harriet and Ronnie both laughed.

“What's with all the noise?” Percy asked as he came down the stairs, holding his jumper.

“Hey! Percy got one too!” Fred exclaimed as he and George ran over to their older brother.

“And it has a P! For Prefect! Come on Perce; we're all wearing them!” George said as he and Fred snatched the jumper away from Percy. Percy shouted in protest as Fred and George forced the jumper down over his head and arms, pinning his arms down to his sides.

“Lunch time!” Fred called as they forced Percy from the common room.

The Christmas feast turned out to be one of the most fun experiences of Harriet's life. There were so few people that they gathered around a single table. Despite there being so few of them, Harriet was somewhat surprised at how many students had stayed.

There was a handful from each house it seemed, including a single Slytherin girl whose name Harriet couldn't quite remember. She was one of the quietest; she hardly ever spoke in Potions except to answer a question when called by Professor Snape. She did very well in the class too, and not even through Professor Snape's favouritism. As Harriet watched her surreptitiously from her end of the table, she couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for the girl, even if she was a Slytherin, she looked rather lonely.

In particular, she found the crackers the most enjoyable. When pulled, they would explode in vast clouds of multi-coloured smoke, leaving behind things like hats and other gifts. One even had an entire wizards chess set and some white mice. At the head of the table, Professor Dumbledore was wearing a flowered bonnet he'd gotten out of a cracker he had pulled with Professor Sprout.

They were just about to start the pudding when it happened. And after it, Harriet felt utterly stupid. It happened as Professor Dumbledore leaned over to speak to the blonde Slytherin girl.

“So, Miss Flamel, how have you been enjoying your time here at Hogwarts so far?”

Harriet froze. Ronnie, who was rapidly stuffing her face full of pudding, hadn't heard. But now Harriet knew; she knew where she had heard the name Flamel before. The blond Slytherin girl named Dora Flamel. Could she be a relative of Nicolas Flamel's? It wasn't a typical name, but that was no reason to assume they were related, was it?

“Oh, it is quite fine, thank you, Headmaster,” Dora said politely, though quietly. Harriet had never really listened to her talk before. Her voice was somewhat high-pitched and had a dull sound to it that matched her usual demeanour. It wasn't quite the same as Malfoy's however. In Malfoy, the look was superior and confident. In Dora, however, it was more resigned, as if she was continually feeling put upon, or was just waiting for something interesting to happen in her life.

Harriet looked over at Ronnie who was still eating obliviously. She decided she would wait until after to inform her of the possible lead in the search for Flamel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Dora Flamel property of me!
> 
> Pixie Fanfarró property of Hasbro
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	10. Clues and Mirrors

"One would do well always to remember that even a mirror only shows a reflection of a perception."

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

That night, Harriet climbed into bed with both a full stomach and a full mind. They had spent the whole rest of the day playing wizarding games like Wizard's Chess, Exploding Snap and Gobstones. Ronnie and Harriet had even laughed themselves into stomach aches at Fred and George when they stole Percy's Prefect's badge and watched him chasing the twins both all over the Gryffindor common room.

And yet, through all of it, Harriet couldn't help but think about the two most prominent mysteries that day had brought her. First: the cloak, and second: Dora Flamel. It was Dora who was puzzling her the most at the moment. How would she get to talk to her? Dora was a Slytherin after all, though she didn't seem to display quite the same anti-Gryffindor prejudice as the rest of the Slytherins. All the same, it probably was not going to be as easy as just walking over and asking.

Ronnie wasn't as intrigued as Harriet was. She figured it was merely a coincidence, but Harriet wasn't convinced. There was a special object being kept at Hogwarts by someone named Nicolas Flamel, and at the same time, a girl with the last name Flamel just happens to start her schooling here? No, Harriet thought as she rolled over again, there had to be a connection.

As she lay there longer, Harriet found her thoughts being drawn once again to the invisibility cloak. Maybe, just maybe, she would finally have her chance to sneak into the restricted section of the library? Even if Dora were related to Nicolas Flamel, it wouldn't hurt to take a look, would it? It didn't seem prudent not to look, though she was sure if Hermione found out about Harriet being out of bed after hours, even under the cloak, she would throw a fit.

No, she would have to do it. Pulling off her covers and quietly sliding out of bed into her slippers, Harriet moved to her trunk. She knelt and, as silently as she could, opened the lid, and pulled out the silky material. She stole a glance at Ronnie as she pulled it up over her head. Part of her wanted to wake Ronnie, to share in this little adventure, but somehow, something stopped her. If it was indeed her father's cloak, and now hers, something told Harriet that this time, she should use the cloak by herself.

She sneaked in front of the mirror, checking to make sure she was completely invisible (which was an odd experience in its own right) before she quietly crept out of the dormitory and down the stairs. She didn't even wake the Fat Lady as she pushed open the portrait to climb through the portrait hole. As she stepped into the hallway, a great excitement stole over her. She could go anywhere in this cloak, do anything. But right now, there was only one thought on her mind: finding Flamel.

Slowly, Harriet made her way down the corridors and stairways. Occasionally, she would freeze, thinking she had heard something, but it always seemed to be nothing. She was most afraid of running into Peeves. Even if he couldn't see her, he could still hear her possibly, and the cloak didn't make her untouchable either.

Suddenly, just as Harriet was about to turn a corner, she knew she'd heard a noise. She froze, listening hard, but she didn't hear anything else. Still, feeling it'd be better to be safe than sorry, Harriet padded up to the wall, pausing to listen again, before slowly peering around the corner. As she did, Harriet found herself face to face with a round-faced, blonde-haired, blue-eyed girl.

To her surprise, Harriet gave out a little shriek. The other girl shrieked as well that made Harriet shriek again. Harriet took a step backwards but stepped on the edge of her cloak and fell to the stone floor, landing hard on her backside.

"Potter?!" Asked a flabbergasted voice from above her.

Harriet blinked and looked up at the girl as she rubbed her now sore behind. Miraculously, Harriet had walked straight into Dora Flamel. "Flamel?!"

"What are you doing here?" They both asked each other in unison. They both opened their mouths to answer when the sound of flat-footed, flapping feet came from down the corridor.

"Students out of bed! Find them my sweet! Find them!" the gruff, wheezing voice of Argus Filch called from down the corridor.

Harriet got to her feet and thinking fast waved to Dora.

"Under here!" Harriet hissed.

Dora nodded, and without hesitation she slipped under the cloak, both girls crouching to keep their feet hidden and pressing tight against the wall. Filch jogged past barely twenty seconds later, following the jingling collar of Mrs Norris. Harriet watched through squinting eyes as she forced herself not to breathe as the caretaker passed within inches of where she and Dora stood. Finally, after a full minute and no sound from Filch, Harriet felt it was safe to breathe completely.

"Well, that was one of my closer shaves," Dora said.

Harriet looked at her perplexed. "One of your closer shaves? How often do you come out here?!" Harriet asked in an exasperated though hissed whisper.

Dora simply shrugged. "Most every night. I like going to the library after hours with everyone gone; I can read better then."

Harriet stared at the girl beside her, "You may be worse than Hermione."

"Nah," Dora said shaking her head. "Hermione can stomach being there in the daytime."

Dora gave Harriet a careful look now. "What are you doing out of bed though?"

Harriet blushed and looked around nervously. "I'm... well... heh, it's sort of ironic that I'd run into you—"

"Well coincidental, I think, not ironic, but go on."

"Oh, right, well, y-you wouldn't happen to know who Nicolas Flamel is, would you?"

Dora's face fell slightly. "Nicolas Flamel?" she asked in a tone Harriet couldn't quite place. Was it a disappointment? Did she not know who he was after all?

"Y-yeah, only, well, it's a long story..."

"You have no idea..." Dora said before she turned and started walking away.

"W-wait!" Harriet hissed following Dora down the hall. She nearly reached Dora's arm when Dora tugged it away and kept walking.

"Please, I just, you are related to him, aren't you?"

Dora wheeled on Harriet, her eyes burning. "Yes, I am, who walks away furiously when they're asked if they're related to someone they don't know?! Yes! He's my so-many-greats-grandfather even I don't know how many there is! Almost everyone in my family is dead except for him and Grandma Perenelle because of that stupid stone!"

Dora paused and had an expression rather like Hagrid had when he realised he had accidentally given too much information.

"S-stone...?" Harriet asked bemusedly.

Dora looked even more furious with herself, but Harriet caught her arm this time. Dora struggled, trying to pull her arm free. "Let go!"

"Please! Just let me explain!"

There was a quiet mewling noise from somewhere around their feet. They both looked down into the yellow, lamp-like eyes of Mrs Norris.

"Run for it!" Harriet said, no longer bothering to keep her voice down.

"This way!" Dora yelled, and they started off together down the corridor. The sound of Filch huffing loudly after them filled Harriet's ears. They rounded a corner and Harriet finally stopped.

Dora had vanished. Suddenly, Harriet felt a hand grab her arm tightly and tug her sideways, and another hand clamped tightly over her mouth. She squeaked into the hand, though it was muffled enough that Filch did not hear it as he passed the door Harriet had been pulled through.

Finally, the hand let off Harriet's arm, and Harriet turned, seeing Dora looking past Harriet, leaning out the door and peering after Filch. "Okay, that was two close calls too many, I'm going back to my common room," Dora whispered, looking somewhat disgruntled.

"Wait, please, I just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is and why he's hiding something here at Hogwarts!" Harriet hissed desperately.

This stopped Dora dead in her tracks. She turned very slowly and blinked at Harriet, looking incredulous. "You mean... you don't know...?" Dora asked in disbelief.

"Don't know what?"

Dora didn't respond. She merely shook her head, turned, and walked silently from the room. Harriet groaned, stomping her foot in frustration. She was so close to the truth, and now after Dora's reaction, she was even more intrigued if possible by the mystery of Flamel.

Harriet turned and looked at the room they were in while she fumed. It was then that she noticed she was standing directly in front of a very tall and ancient looking mirror. The border at the top had the words: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

Harriet took a step towards the mirror trying to read the strange words more clearly when movement in the mirror made her look down. What she saw made her nearly leap right out of her skin. She spun around, but the room was empty. Slowly, Harriet turned, her eyes closed, before she slowly opened them, hoping that what she had seen before would not be there. They were.

Standing just behind her in the mirror was at least a dozen other people, all much older than her. The youngest two by far were standing directly behind her and looked old enough to be her parents.

At that thought, Harriet froze. She looked at the faces of the two people standing right behind her in the mirror. The man, his hair was jet-black, just like hers. And his nose, it was her nose, and he had the same jawline. She looked at the woman now. The woman's hair was long and flowing, just like Harriet's, but what was most striking was the eyes, they were her eyes.

"M-mum... Daddy...?" Harriet asked breathlessly as she stared.

The two didn't respond, merely continued to smile warmly down at her. Involuntarily, Harriet stretched out an arm behind her. If they were there, she would feel them. Even so, when she didn't feel them at first, she began swinging her arm and grabbing a little more insistently, watching in the mirror trying to guide her hand, until she realised that her reflection wasn't following her movements. It wasn't real, what she was seeing, her parents weren't there.

She looked at all the other people in the mirror spotting other similar physical traits here and there amongst them. It wasn't just her parents; it was all her family. The more she leaned side to side, the more of them appeared. Harriet returned her gaze to her parents. Tears were slowly sliding down each of their cheeks, and it was at that moment that Harriet became aware she was crying as well.

Harriet reached up, touching the mirror, longing to put her hand through it to feel her mother and father's faces, to hold them close and never let go. She had never, ever, seen their faces before. She'd had no idea what they looked like until now.

There was a noise from outside in the corridor. Harriet spun around but didn't see anything, but she knew it would be silly to keep standing here. She threw the cloak back over herself and turned back to the mirror. "I'll come back... I promise... I'm sorry..." Harriet said softly before finally forcing herself to turn away.

As she got to the doorway, there was a soft noise once again that made her pause. This time, it sounded like someone had sniffed. She looked around both inside the room and back outside in the corridor, but she didn't see anyone there. Harriet shrugged and headed back to Gryffindor Tower.

## * * * *

"I can't believe you went out last night and didn't wake me up!" Ronnie declared in the empty dormitory the following morning.

"Shhh!" Harriet hissed, looking towards the door, unsure if Fred and George were up yet or, worse still, Percy.

"Sorry! Sorry! I just, well, it was the first time using it, and it was my father's after all..."

Ronnie nodded, looking slightly less disgruntled. "So, did you find anything out?"

"Only that Dora Flamel is related to Nicolas Flamel."

"How?"

"I ran into her, almost literally, she was out roaming too. Said she likes going to the library when there's no one else there," Harriet explained with a shrug.

"She likes going to the library when there's no one else there...?" Ronnie asked, incredulously. "Sounds like a Slytherin Hermione."

Harriet shrugged again as she pulled on her tights, fussing a bit as she straightened them out. "Well, yes and no... I think she just likes being alone..." she said.

"So she told you she's related to him then?"

"Yeah, he's her very great-grandfather or something apparently. She said everyone in her family's dead or something except for Nicolas Flamel and her grandmother because of some 'stupid stone'," Harriet explained.

"Wow... whatever it is it must be powerful... I seem to remember hearing something about a powerful stone that stopped death somewhere... I just can't think of where..." Ronnie muttered thoughtfully.

"That's not all though."

"No?" Ronnie asked, looking very interested now.

"I found this room last night, well, Dora technically found it, but I found the mirror inside it..." Harriet said explaining to Ronnie all about what she'd seen in the mirror.

Instead of looking impressed, however, Ronnie looked a little nervous. "Your family...? Sounds kinda dodgy to me..."

"Why's that?" Harriet asked. The mirror seemed completely benign to her. "Maybe that's just what it does, shows you your family or the people in your life you love?"

"Maybe... but things in the magical world are usually not all they appear. I wouldn't go looking for it again if I were you; it was probably stuck away in there for a good reason..."

Harriet didn't reply. She merely finished getting dressed before the two of them went down to get breakfast.

Harriet spent all of that breakfast trying to catch Dora's eye, but Dora seemed to be nearly as good at pretending Harriet didn't exist as Professor Snape was. However, Harriet found she wasn't able to put that much of an effort into getting Dora's attention, because the whole time they were eating, all she could think about was the mirror.

She had decided to heed Ronnie's advice and wouldn't go back tonight. Even though she fully intended to honour her best friend's recommendation, she just couldn't get it out of her mind. Or rather, she couldn't get what it showed her out of her mind.

All that night, Harriet tossed and turned, trying to sleep. Twice, she sat up and nearly got out of bed when the slow, deep breathing of Ronnie brought her back to her senses, and she laid back down. No, she would keep her promise, she wouldn't go back tonight.

Morning came indecently fast the following day.

"You look awful!" Ronnie declared as Harriet finally slid back her bed curtains.

Harriet had hardly slept even an entire hour. She merely grumbled as she slowly started putting on her clothes.

"Didn't you sleep at all...?"

"No..." Harriet muttered shortly.

Ronnie blushed a little. "You're still thinking about that mirror, aren't you?"

Harriet didn't respond. Of course, she was; what else would have kept her up all night? Like finding Flamel was that important anymore. The thing he was hiding here in Hogwarts was guarded well enough by Fluffy. Harriet didn't need to know what it was; all she wanted was to look upon her parents' faces once more.

Ronnie opened her mouth to say something else, but Harriet didn't give her a chance. She got up from her bed and stormed from the dormitory, actually slamming the door shut behind her.

Ronnie didn't know; she couldn't possibly understand. Her parents were still alive; she could write to them whenever she wanted, she could see them every holiday. Suddenly the very fact that Ronnie was here also made her angry. She wasn't here like Harriet was; she wasn't here because she had nowhere else to go. She was there because her family was somewhere else, so used to seeing each other they didn't even mind missing a chance to see each other.

Despite Harriet's fuming, Ronnie still sat next to her when she came down to breakfast. Now that they were amongst everyone else, all talking and laughing, Harriet was starting to feel foolish again. It wasn't Ronnie's fault that Harriet didn't have parents, but she did. It wasn't anyone's fault, except, of course, Lord Voldemort's.

Making sure no one was looking, Harriet discretely reached over and gave Ronnie's hand a squeeze and an apologetic smile. Ronnie gave Harriet an understanding smile back and a nod. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief as her eyes once again found Dora Flamel. Harriet was sure she had just been looking at Ronnie and Harriet a moment before. Harriet tried to get Dora’s attention, but Dora was now determinedly ignoring her.

Harriet made up her mind. After breakfast, they would corner her. She whispered her plan to Ronnie, who nodded in agreement. When they finished, they both got to their feet and headed for the doorway to the Great Hall, but stopped just outside of it. There they waited, anxiously.

Harriet felt herself drifting off a little as she waited. Harriet's head dipped a little, and she lifted it back up just in time to see Dora sneaking out through the side door to the Great Hall that they had gone through just before their sorting. Dora looked over her shoulder, spotted Harriet looking at her and gave her a slightly triumphant smile before she disappeared through the door that led down to the dungeons.

Harriet jumped to her feet, but knowing Dora and how well Dora seemed to know the layout of the school already, she knew it was no good to try and give chase.

"Wha-what?" Ronnie asked, snapping back to attention herself with a snort.

Harriet shook her head. "Nothing... Dora snuck past us. She used the side door."

Ronnie glowered, disappointed. "Crafty isn't she...? Well, she is a Slytherin I suppose."

Harriet nodded in agreement. She sighed, and finally, they made their way back upstairs. Harriet was too tired to play many games with the Weasleys that day. After lunch, she went up to the dormitory to nap for a few hours.

It wasn't as restful sleep as she'd hoped. She had something of a nightmare.

She was in the room with the mirror, except there was no mirror. Instead, she was really with her parents, who were hugging her tightly and telling her how much they loved her. Then a bright green glow started, growing larger and larger until it finally swallowed her parents. Harriet tried to yell but she was drowned out by a high, diabolical cackle, and the green went out, and Harriet found herself staring into a pair of bright, red eyes with slits for pupils.

Harriet jolted awake, sitting bolt upright so quickly she felt dizzy. She'd had nightmares about green light before, but she'd never seen those red eyes or her parents, and she didn't think she'd heard that laugh before either. Harriet shivered; she was drenched in cold sweat. She slowly changed clothes and went back downstairs. Ronnie gasped a little seeing her.

"Oh Harriet, you look terrible!" She declared bluntly.

Harriet nodded, flopping down miserably into the chair beside Ronnie, grateful for the warm fire. "Nightmare..." Harriet muttered, rubbing her eyes under her glasses, "how long was I out?"

"Hours," Ronnie replied. Harriet looked out the window and realised that Ronnie was right. It was dark outside already; she must have slept through dinner. Harriet's stomach groaned in confirmation of this, but Ronnie just smiled and reached down on the other side of her chair and picked up a plate of food and handed it to Harriet. Harriet groaned, taking the plate and setting it down before giving Ronnie a very tight hug.

Unfortunately, Harriet discovered that night that her nap had been a slightly-double edged sword. While she had felt plenty rested despite the nightmare, Harriet was now wide-awake as she lay in bed, listening to Ronnie switch back and forth between heavy-breathing and snoring depending on how she was laying.

As she lay there, Harriet's thoughts unavoidably drifted back to the mirror. After the nightmare, she wanted to see them again more than ever. Finally, Harriet made up her mind. She slid out of bed, quietly opened her trunk, drew out the cloak and set off for the portrait hole.

"Hey! Who's there!?" asked the Fat Lady as she snorted awake when Harriet swung the portrait open.

Harriet didn't answer merely kept walking down the corridor. She wasn't sure where exactly the room had been; now she thought about it. She knew she'd remember if she could just find the spot where she had run into Dora that night.

Finally, Harriet found the corner. There they had both gotten under the cloak and waited for Filch to run past. Then they had argued, and it had brought Mrs Norris, then they had run left.

Harriet started down that corridor, peeking into all the rooms until finally, she found it. The mirror was still there, stuck out of the way like before. She crossed to it eagerly and even with the cloak on, Harriet could see her reflection and her parents smiling down at her.

"I'm sorry... I'd meant to come back earlier but... I'd made a promise... but... I couldn't stay away," Harriet explained to the mute images of her mother and father. She finally pulled the cloak off and sat on the floor, looking up at them. Again tears quickly started in her eyes.

"Back again I see, Harriet?" asked a voice from behind her.

Harriet jumped so much she almost jumped to her feet as she spun around. Professor Dumbledore was sitting on one of the desks, watching her.

"P-p-professor! I... I-I... I didn't see you!"

"It's quite alright, my dear. Alas, unlike you at this stage of your magical education, I do not need a cloak to become invisible. So, I see you, like so many others before you have fallen victim to the pull of the Mirror of Erised."

"Mirror of Erised?" Harriet asked curiously.

Professor Dumbledore nodded and slid off the desk, walking over and sitting on the floor next to her. "Oh yes, can you think what it shows?" Professor Dumbledore asked, looking into the mirror.

Now that he was there right next to her, Harriet found she couldn't see her parents anymore, just her and Dumbledore sitting side by side. "Well, it shows my family..."

"Yes, it does. And what feeling does that inspire in you the most?"

Harriet thought hard. It filled her with a lot of emotions, but she supposed the strongest were longing and desire. She wanted them to be real more than anything. "Desire," Harriet muttered, feeling foolish admitting it.

"Precisely," Professor Dumbledore said.

"Sir?" Harriet asked, looking up at him.

"The Mirror of Erised shows you the deepest desire of your heart. Read the inscription at the top very carefully... perhaps, back to front?"

Harriet nodded, slightly bemused, but looked up at the inscription anyway and read. _Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desire_. Harriet blinked and reread it. "I show not your face, but your heart's desire."

"Very good!" Professor Dumbledore said, smiling down at her. "Yes, the Mirror is a terribly powerful tool. People have wasted their entire lives before it, never understanding just exactly what it was they were seeing."

Harriet nodded, seeing how that was possible.

"The Mirror is going to be moved tomorrow, Harriet, and I advise you very strongly not to go looking for it. It has given you a vision you have never had in your life, but now that it is in your head and your heart, you do not need the mirror anymore. Even so, remember it does not do one well to dwell on the dead while forgetting to live."

Harriet nodded and together they got to their feet.

"S-sir?"

"Yes, Harriet?" Professor Dumbledore asked, looking down at her smiling.

"May I ask you a question? I-I mean, other than that one of course."

Professor Dumbledore chuckled and nodded.

"You may indeed."

"What... what do you see, sir, when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a nice thick pair of woollen socks."

Harriet blinked, slightly stupefied by this unexpected answer.

"One can never have too many of them, another Christmas has come and gone, and no one gave me a single pair."

Dumbledore sighed and strode from the room and Harriet followed. She was sure that Dumbledore hadn't been entirely truthful in his answer or indeed truthful at all. But she did remind herself that it was an incredibly personal question to have asked in the first place, and she probably shouldn't have asked.

## * * * *

"Well, you know... he is a bit mad, Dumbledore might full well have been honest," Ronnie said the next morning as Harriet explained what had happened the night before.

"Maybe, but, you were right though, about the Mirror, I should have kept listening to you."

"Well, probably, but hey at least you know now, right?" Ronnie replied smiling that same slightly superior smile she always wore when she got something right over Harriet. And somehow, when Ronnie did it, Harriet still found it endearing rather than being put off by it. It reminded her always of the very first time they had met when Ronnie had run with Harriet through the barrier to Platform Nine and Three Quarters.

As the day wore on, Harriet began to feel better and better. The talk with Professor Dumbledore had helped considerably. She'd also managed to get a few more hours sleep without a single nightmare after she'd got back, and now she was determined to keep her promise to both Professor Dumbledore and Ronnie not to go back trying to find it. Professor Dumbledore was right she had their faces now to remember all on her own when she needed them; she didn't need the Mirror after all.

She had also decided to bring an end to her quest to get more information out of Dora Flamel. She knew that Dora was related to Nicolas Flamel and that he had some "stone" he was hiding, for protection, at Hogwarts. Given his apparent great age, Harriet was sure they had been looking in the wrong place to find out any information on him. They had focused all their prior efforts on recent wizarding discoveries; if he was that old and had outlived the rest of Dora's family, except perhaps her parents, Dora had never said; it was probably an ancient discovery of his.

So at breakfast, it was Harriet this time who tried her hardest not to pay any attention to Dora Flamel thinking it would give her a break. Ronnie seemed content to wait for Hermione to return, and spend the rest of the Christmas Holiday merely enjoying it, a prospect Harriet found incredibly inviting.

Again that day she took part in all their usual fun and games. She even slightly took part in some of Fred and George's pranks on Percy, discretely palming his prefect's badge as Fred handed it off to her that afternoon after he'd stolen it from Percy's dormitory. Fred and George had recruited her to help them with a prank making Percy think he was losing his memory, by taking his badge and putting it in other places from where Percy had left it.

Unfortunately, it seemed Percy knew Fred and George all too well and chewed Fred and George out for their attempt. The twins, fortunately, took all the blame on themselves, though it didn't seem to matter much to them that Percy was all that upset in the first place, and afterwards merely apologised to Harriet that her first prank hadn't gone as well as they'd hoped.

After that, they had something of a Wizards Chess tournament, though Ronnie soundly defeated all of them in short order. Harriet had at least beaten Percy and Fred though George had just barely edged her out. Harriet still wasn't sure she was that big a fan of the game, but she was a fan of talking and laughing with them all, taking her mind off the Mirror, her parents, the nightmares, and Flamel with his "stone".

At dinner that night, however, something unexpected happened. Instead of ignoring them Dora ended up sitting right next to Harriet.

"Sorry about the way I acted before, I know what you're like, Harriet. You're not the kind of person who would want Grandpa Nicolas' discovery to do bad things with it," Dora whispered in Harriet's ear as she passed Harriet some mashed potatoes.

"Oh, th-thanks, Dora... I just want to know what it is and why it's here..." Harriet replied under her breath as she spooned some potatoes onto her plate.

"I really can't tell you. I shouldn't have told you as much as what I did anyway, just wanted you to know I'm not mad at you," Dora went on as she now passed the gravy boat.

"Oh, well thanks again, you know... you're sort of odd for a Slytherin aren't you?" Harriet asked, but Dora didn't respond.

Harriet merely shrugged to herself before leaning over and whispering to Ronnie what Dora had told her. Ronnie glowered a little leaning over to peak around Harriet's head at Dora.

"Still... she could at least have given us a little more information for our trouble... stinking Slytherins..."

Harriet closed her eyes and hoped with all her heart that Dora had not heard what Ronnie has whispered. They ate the rest of the meal in peace, Professor Dumbledore also giving no sign of acknowledgement to Harriet of what had happened the night before when she stole glances at him. It gave Harriet a moment of pause. This was twice now Harriet had run into him in unexpected places. Was he perhaps following her as well? Maybe he had been in the hall already when Harriet had run into him that day after the first Quidditch match, having just turned visible again just before she ran into him?

Harriet shook her head and put it from her mind, doubting she would never really know the truth about that at any rate. In fact, she felt oddly comforted thinking someone as powerful and competent as Professor Dumbledore was watching over her, she felt much safer at any rate.

Her attention was distracted once again by something that made her happier than anything else had done that break. Just near the end of dinner, Professor Flitwick and Madame Hooch had walked in, carrying Harriet's _Nimbus 2000_.

"Here you are, Potter, good as new and in fine condition," Madame Hooch said as she handed Harriet the broomstick.

"Yes, not a single jinx, curse, or hex to be found. Whatever had happened, we could not replicate the effects no matter what we tried; it must have been an odd fluke is all we can think," Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"Well, a-at least we know," Harriet said, beaming as she held the broom tightly.

After dinner, she and Ronnie immediately made their way up to their dorm and put on as many warm clothes as they could before heading down to the Quidditch pitch. The air was freezing despite how bundled up they were, but Harriet couldn't wait anymore, she had to fly.

Ronnie had to help her onto the _Nimbus_ , but she kicked off immediately with a whoop of happiness. Despite the cold air, she felt more alive than she had in weeks; not since the Quidditch match, the last time she had flown. She rocketed as fast as she could around the pitch, pulling up to do loops and barrel rolls now and then to let off more steam.

Finally, after a little while, she flew back down and helped Ronnie up onto the broom as well. Ronnie didn't fly nearly as well, looking too nervous to try many tricks, bundled up as she was and less able to move. As she watched, a soft crunching made Harriet look around.

Dora Flamel was slowly walking towards them, watching Ronnie.

"Hey," Dora said in greeting.

"Hi," Harriet said back, smiling.

Dora looked up at Ronnie, who was getting more of a feel for flying so bundled up and made a loop.

"I heard what your friend said... at dinner..."

"Oh," Harriet said, feeling slightly nervous.

"I didn't ask to be put in Slytherin because I hate Muggle-borns or I want to be super famous and powerful..." Dora went on, still watching Ronnie flying.

"No? Then—"

"I asked specifically to be put in Slytherin because I knew it'd piss off mum and dad. You know, if you want to end house rivalries, sometimes you have to look in your own house first and see the prejudice that's hidden there too," Dora said with a shrug before she turned and started tromping back through the snow, leaving Harriet watching after her, feeling completely dumbfounded.

Later that night, as they all climbed into bed, Harriet couldn't help but mull over all that had happened in their last few days. She had learned more information about who Nicolas Flamel was, she had seen her parents for the first time in her life, she had spoken to the headmaster yet again, and now she thought she had just been called prejudiced by a Slytherin. It was as she realised that she had thought of Dora as "a Slytherin" that Harriet kicked herself and realised Dora might have had a point.

But for her, that was understandable, wasn't it? The most well-known Slytherin in the world had murdered her parents and nearly killed Harriet herself. Hagrid had said how there wasn't a single dark wizard who hadn't come from Slytherin house. But did that make them all budding future dark wizards? Harriet sighed and rolled over onto her side, curling up a little. Somehow, she didn't think she'd be sleeping much tonight as she slowly closed her eyes.

Again, she was in a room with her parents. She was talking to them, but she couldn't hear her voice, or theirs, though they were speaking back. Though as she did, she suddenly felt horrified as they both turned into giant snakes. She jumped back and screamed silently as a high, cold voice laughed.

"Slytherin house, you should transfer there, Harriet Potter, it's where you belong, forget this path, forget righteousness, embrace power, or else!"

A bright green flash filled her vision again, and Harriet sat bolt upright and screamed. This time she heard herself, however, and heard it echoing about the little dormitory.

"What?! What is it?! Harriet are you alright?" Asked Ronnie's very concerned voice.

Harriet was panting, once again drenched in cold sweat.

"Y-yes," Harriet answered, her voice almost a whimper. "It... it was another nightmare..."

Ronnie slowly drew back Harriet's bed curtains and sat on the edge of the bed next to her. Harriet swung her legs off the bed and got to her feet, getting a towel and wiping off her sweat, shivering a little.

"Was it the same as last time?" Ronnie asked, sounding concerned.

Harriet shook her head. "No... It was worse. Much worse..."

Ronnie bit her lip, giving Harriet a worried look. Harriet sat back on her bed, pulling her legs up to her chest and hugging her arms tight around them.

"Are you okay...?" Ronnie asked quietly.

Harriet shook her head, before looking at her best friend. "C-could... could you just hold me a bit... at least until I fall asleep again?" Harriet asked, feeling incredibly foolish for asking such a childish question.

Ronnie merely smiled and nodded. "Sure," she said, though she suddenly looked worried, "as long as you don't tell anyone."

"My lips are sealed..." Harriet answered, though she finally smiled and blushed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Dora Flamel property of me!
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	11. Answers and Accomplices

"I often find it is a far better thing to place my trust in a friend than to doubt. There are no real guarantees, and every bit of trust will take a measure of risk, but one's friends are almost always the safest bet when you need somewhere to turn."

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

"I can't believe you snuck out after hours twice, Harriet!"

It was the end of the holidays, and sure enough, Hermione had reacted precisely as Harriet had predicted to the knowledge that Harriet had snuck out of bed twice during the holidays.

"It's fine, I mean okay I did almost get caught twice—"

"Well, technically, you did get caught once," Ronnie chimed in with a grin. Harriet rolled her eyes.

"Okay, okay, but anyway, so like I was going to say, the first night, I ran into, and I can't believe none of us remembered her before, but Dora—"

"Flamel!" Hermione exclaimed, cutting Harriet off. Harriet furrowed her brow a little frustrated at being cut off twice.

"Well, yeah."

"You're right, Harriet, how did we forget about a girl in our year with that same last name? It's not a very common last name after all."

"Well, I mean it's not that difficult to imagine, she is a Slytherin after all, and she is kinda on the quiet side," Ronnie said with a shrug.

Harriet and Hermione both nodded in agreement, though after the events of those three days during the break, Harriet was sure she would never forget Dora Flamel again as long as she lived.

She and Dora had not spoken to each other again after Dora gave Harriet the warning about being prejudiced against Slytherins. The more Harriet had thought about it, the more she'd decided that even if Gryffindors were a little prejudiced against Slytherins, she was still in the better house. The Slytherins would have to seriously clean up their act if she were ever to start judging the house as a whole as being anything resembling 'good.'

Harriet sighed thoughtfully. "Now, all we have to do is find out what this 'stone' she talked about is."

"Stone?" Hermione asked, curiously.

"Yeah," Ronnie said, glancing around nervously. "She said, what was it, Harriet?"

"She said that almost everyone in her family except Nicolas Flamel was dead because of some stone or something, and she said he was her great grandfather but, there was something like so many greats she didn't know how many, which makes me think he's really old," Harriet explained.

"So we figure the stone must be something that stops you from dying," Ronnie said.

Hermione looked troubled as she thought. She was about to say something else when an exasperated girl's voice spoke from above them. "Okay, seriously, what are you three up to? You were sitting around whispering all the time secretly before the break, and now you're at it again!"

The three jumped and looked up from where they were sitting in the Entrance Hall. It was Parvati and Lavender. "N-n-nothing," Hermione stuttered doing her best to look nonchalant but failing in a truly spectacular way.

Parvati and Lavender furrowed their brows, looking unconvinced; though, Lavender did suddenly beam and leaned down to hug each of them in turn.

"Thank you all for the cards and letters, by the way, they were lovely!" She said. Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all murmured 'you're welcomes' and 'thank yous' in return.

"But I mean really, we're your friends, we've been sleeping in the same dorm room for three months now, what's so secret you can't tell us?"

Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione looked at each other and sighed.

"Well, you probably wouldn't believe us..." Harriet said evasively.

Parvati rolled her eyes, "Try us," she said and crossed her arms.

"Okay then," Hermione said and took a deep breath. "There's this person named Nicolas Flamel who apparently created or found some special stone that lets you live to a very great age, and it's being kept hidden here at Hogwarts by Professor Dumbledore and is currently being guarded by a giant three-headed dog named Fluffy that belongs to Hagrid the game-keeper in the third floor corridor on the right and we think possibly Professor Snape might be the one trying to steal it and we also think he might have been the one jinxing Harriet's broom at the first Quidditch match."

All four of the other girls stared at Hermione, who looked around at them all and shrugged. "What, they asked?"

"Okay," Parvati said nodding. "Yeah, yeah that is a little difficult to believe, I'll say that."

Lavender nodded. "Though, Hagrid having a giant three-headed dog is pretty believable."

Harriet barely suppressed a giggle at the truth of that statement and couldn't help but give an affectionate smile in the direction of Hagrid’s hut.

"And now I see why you wouldn't want many people knowing about what you're talking about..." Parvati added, nodding.

Harriet looked at Ronnie and Hermione and knew they were all thinking the same thing. Of all of their friends they could have spoken to about this, Parvati and Lavender were the last two they would have wanted to know.

"Well, still, don't worry, Lavender and I won't breathe a word about it to anyone," Parvati said, reassuringly.

Lavender nodded in agreement, "Not a soul, though, a stone that keeps you alive like that, that does sound familiar..."

"I know, right!?" Ronnie exclaimed in exasperated agreement.

"Yeah... something I remember hearing about when I was a kid..." Lavender went on biting her lip and looking out the window thinking hard. Suddenly her eyes snapped wide open, and she pointed at Ronnie looking exhilarated.

"Beedle the Bard!"

"Oh yeah!" Ronnie exclaimed in excitement too. Parvati, Harriet and Hermione all looked at each other in confusion.

"B-Beedle the Bard...?" Hermione asked sounding slightly sceptical.

"Yeah!" Ronnie went on looking excited. "The Resurrection Stone, the Tale of the Three Brothers, every kid from a wizarding family knows about the Three Brothers and the Resurrection Stone!"

"Uh... the rest of us aren't really from wizarding families..." Harriet said.

"Well, I'm from half a one anyway," Parvati interjected. "But go on, Lav, Ronnie."

"Well, we won't go into the whole story 'cause it's only the stone that counts, but in it, one of the brothers is given a stone to bring people back from the dead," Ronnie explained excitedly.

"But... that's a stone to bring them back from the dead, not to keep them from dying..." Hermione said.

Harriet looked at Hermione out of the corner of her eye. She sounded as though she was trying very hard to sound calm and reasonable, but there was an odd tremble in Hermione's voice as she spoke those words.

"Oh yeah... that does put a damper on that idea doesn't it?" Lavender replied looking crestfallen.

"It's okay Lavender, it was really similar," Harriet said soothingly.

"Hmmm, so a stone that stops you from ever dying...?" Parvati intoned sitting down beside Harriet and putting her elbows on her knees and resting her chin in her hands as she thought hard. "Maybe Padma would know..."

Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione all looked at each other. Parvati sighed. "Sorry, I know, you don't want anyone else to know..."

"Know what?"

Harriet closed her eyes and groaned as Kieran, Scott, Marcus and Neville all came walking up to them.

"Apparently during the holidays we completely lost our ability to be secretive," Ronnie said raising her eyes to the ceiling.

"Or we got the resolve to finally confront you about what you three have been up to," Scott said with a slight chuckle in his voice. Kieran nodded in agreement.

"Aye, we just figured you'd tell us when or if you wanted, but now our curiosity's won out."

Harriet looked at Ronnie and Hermione who both shrugged. "Fine..." Harriet said, feeling exasperated. "But not here in the Entrance Hall!"

"Indeed, somewhere more private would be much better," Hermione agreed.

The rest all murmured their assent, and they all headed off for the nearest deserted classroom. After carefully checking it for Peeves or any other potential eavesdroppers Harriet, Ronnie and Hermione sat down to explain everything they had done and learned since the Quidditch match.

Marcus whistled. "Well, you three have been a bit busy then."

"Stone...?" Kieran muttered and looked at Scott. Scott simply shrugged.

"Only thing that jumps to my head would be the one from the Three Brothers..." Scott replied.

"Well, it sounds kind of like you're looking in the wrong place now though," Parvati said thoughtfully. "If he's so old, then we need to look in old books, don't we?"

There were murmurs of assent from everyone in the group. Then Hermione jumped to her feet.

"Where are you going?" Ronnie asked.

"Library," Hermione whispered as she swept from the room, shutting the door again behind her.

Ronnie sighed. "I didn't need to ask, did I?"

"No," the rest of them said in unison.

While she searched the rest of them whiled away the time talking about what they had done during the holidays. Harriet found herself vaguely jealous of Kieran and Scott's holidays which were spent on the McIntyre family estate near the western coast of Scotland.

Nearly an hour later Hermione finally returned and dropped a massive book onto the table in the middle of the room. "I've found him!" She declared looking triumphant.

"Wow, a book that small I'm surprised it took so long," Ronnie teased with a smirk at Hermione, who ignored her.

"Here we are, ‘Nicolas Flamel, noted alchemist, and the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone’."

"The Philosopher's Stone?" Lavender asked looking confused. "What's that?"

"It's a magical substance that can turn any metal into pure gold, and creates the "Elixir of Life," which greatly extends the lifespan of whoever drinks it."

Ronnie and Marcus both whistled in unison. "No wonder Snapey-boy wants it..." Ronnie murmured.

Hermione snorted and looked at Ronnie incredulously. "Snapey-boy?!" she asked while the rest of them fell about laughing.

Ronnie blushed brightly. "I was just trying it out..."

"Well anyway," Harriet said trying to get her breath back. "Ronnie's right, well, maybe, I mean we don't know that it's Professor Snape yet—"

"Or if it's just Snape," Marcus weighed in reasonably.

"Yeah, that's a good point too," Parvati agreed, and a general murmur of agreement broke over the group.

"Well, well, isn't this a cosy little gathering...?"

They all spun around and looked at the door. Hermione had left it open, and there stood Professor Snape himself, looking down at them all with his black, fathomless eyes.

"Perhaps you should all find better uses of your time than hiding out in a vacant classroom... it looks... suspicious..."

The little group of first years all looked at each other and Harriet knew they were all wondering the same thing: How much had he overheard?

Almost as one, they all got up and slowly filed out of the room. Professor Snape stood aside to let them pass his eyes following every one of them as they left, one by one. Harriet could feel his eyes on them all the way down the hall.

"Well, now what?" Scott muttered glaring over his shoulder.

"I don't know... do you think he overheard?" asked Hermione nervously.

"Yeah, he overheard alright," growled Marcus, angrily. "Nothing gets past him, does it?"

"Doesn't seem like it..." Harriet replied.

As they walked, Harriet pondered that. Professor Snape had seemed to keep popping up wherever Harriet was lately. Was he following her? Did he know that they were considering him a suspect? Harriet sighed and hung her head a little.

On the one hand, they would have to work harder than ever to keep their investigations a secret if Professor Snape was on to them. On the other, she thought as she stole glances around at the rest of her friends, keeping it a secret she was sure had just gotten harder than ever.

## * * * *

Despite her worries, it seemed Harriet's friends were quite good with keeping secrets within their little circle. Over the weeks that followed, life at Hogwarts progressed pretty much without incident. Harriet's only real concern now was the up and coming Quidditch match versus Hufflepuff.

Wood was having them practice harder than ever which was causing much complaining amongst the other team members. Fred and George, in particular, were the most vocal about it, but as they were amongst the most vocal in the school on every subject imaginable, this didn't have all that big an impact.

"Come off it Oliver, we flatten Hufflepuff every year we play them," moaned George during one of Wood's lectures.

"Yeah," chimed in Fred, looking disgruntled, "why does that mean we have to be in here at five o clock in the morning to practice in the freezing cold?"

Wood scowled, "A: because I'm the captain and I said so. B: because these are the conditions we will probably play Hufflepuff in. C: because if we win this match by enough points, we'll overtake Slytherin in the House Cup. And D: because Snape is going to be the referee."

"What?!" the entire group asked at once, though at varying pitches and levels of disbelief.

Harriet felt her heart drop down to her stomach. Professor Snape hated Gryffindor more than any other house, and if there were a chance Gryffindor would take the Quidditch Cup from Slytherin, there was no way he would be fair. There was also Hermione and Ronnie's suspicion that Professor Snape had been the one jinxing Harriet's broom during the last Quidditch match.

"How could Madame Hooch agree to let Snape be the referee? That's her job!" Angelina demanded furiously.

Alicia nodded in agreement, "Exactly! He's going to rake us over the coals as a referee!"

Harriet simply swallowed. She couldn't voice out loud her concerns of course; no one was supposed to know about any of it but her and her friends.

Her mind was whirling as she walked back to the Gryffindor common room that night. Practice had gone rather horribly with everyone being so wrong-footed by the news about Professor Snape as the referee.

Harriet had missed two grabs at the Snitch. While Harriet had been berating herself over and over again in her head for missing two such easy grabs, Wood had been quite supportive.

"You're going to be fantastic, Potter, I know it. You have to let everything else go when you're on the Snitch. Hufflepuff may not be the best Quidditch team, but they never cheat as the Slytherins do. Once you see that Snitch, go after it for all you're worth."

Harriet still felt the slight butterflies in her stomach from this, though they were rapidly fading with each step as new worries overtook her. How would her friends take this news? In particular, how would Ronnie and Hermione take it? But she knew she had to tell someone about it; she felt like she was going to explode already.

Harriet barely suppressed a sigh of resignation as she climbed through the portrait hole. Though she'd hoped to catch one of them alone, of course, her entire group of friends, minus Neville and Scott, were sitting together in one of the corners. They waved her over, and Harriet did her best to hitch a smile on her face and made her way over to them.

"Harriet, we just heard!" Hermione exclaimed with a hissed whisper, her expression very serious. Harriet felt her heart drop again. Was anything ever secret in this place?

"How do you all know?"

Ronnie answered by merely pointing at Fred and George who had apparently gotten back to the common room before her and apparently were still in the process of complaining to everyone about the unwelcome change in Quidditch procedure.

"Dodgy business, to say the least," Muttered Marcus; rubbing his chin in thought.

Harriet's eyes found Kieran's. Though she considered herself best friends with Hermione and Ronnie, it was Kieran, as the most level-headed of the group, whose opinion she wanted the most.

"Well," Kieran started to say, looking thoughtful, "We still don't know that Snape is up to anything bad, just suspicions at this point. Still, it would be silly not to be at least prepared..."

"Definitely," agreed Hermione at once. "If he starts anything we'll need a good spell up our sleeves to stop him since as he'll be on a broomstick, I can't use my fire on him like I did last time."

"Am I the only one who thinks we're overreacting about this whole Snape thing?" Parvati interjected looking sceptical while Lavender nodded next to her.

Kieran shrugged. "Well like Scott's dad says... 'I'd rather assume the worst but hope for the best.'"

They all nodded at this.

"Well, we'll think of something, Harriet, don't worry."

A noise from the portrait hole made them all turn. Neville had somehow managed to flop through the portrait hole. His legs looked pinned together by the spell Professor Quirrell had told them about just the other day in class: The Leg-locker Curse.

Most people fell about laughing, but Harriet and her friends immediately got up and went to Neville's aid.

"Oh Neville, who did it?" Hermione asked looking stricken.

"Malfoy..." Neville muttered, the expression on his face one of shame and misery. Tears were starting to form in the corners of his eyes. "He stopped me outside the library, said he'd been waiting for someone to practice that spell on."

"Don't worry Nev me lad," said Fred as he appeared behind the group looking over Harriet's head.

"Yeah, we'll take care of that," George said, and the two vanished through the portrait hole before any of them could even react though Percy was in hot pursuit.

"You have to learn to stand up to him, mate," Marcus said in a soft, bolstering tone.

"He's used to just pushing people around," Harriet said softly and stroked Neville's hair gently as Hermione performed the counter-curse, separating Neville's legs.

"You don't have to say it too... I already know I'm not brave enough for Gryffindor... even Malfoy didn't have to tell me, though he did..." Neville muttered and choked back a sob.

"Oh, Neville!"

The whole group looked around in shock as Ronnie flung her arms around Neville and hugged him tightly. Neville looked just as bemused as the rest of them at another display of Ronnie being incredibly unlike herself.

"Of course you're brave enough for Gryffindor, the hat placed you here in Gryffindor didn't it? You're full of bravery you've just gotta see it in yourself," Ronnie said softly as she kept hugging Neville. Neville's face went much pinker, but he stopped crying.

"Th-thank you Ronnie... y-you're right..." Neville muttered and hugged her back before muttering under his breath. "You smell nice, by the way."

"Okay, someone else's turn!" Ronnie said quickly letting go of Neville so abruptly he fell back on his elbows.

Ronnie disappeared up the stairs, and Neville looked around, utterly confused. "Wh-what? She did! I was just trying to compliment her..."

Kieran clapped his hand over his face and groaned, while Parvati and Lavender rolled about in fits of giggles. Marcus merely shook his head in disbelief while Hermione tried to give Neville a sympathetic shoulder pat, her face looking very set as she tried not to laugh too. Harriet felt the corners of her mouth twitch and was glad of something to take her mind off her troubled thoughts.

Kieran took his hand away and forced a sympathetic smile on his face before he handed Neville a chocolate frog. Neville smiled and opened it, taking a bite before looking at the card.

"Dumbledore... I already have him, does anyone el—"

Neville froze as he stared at the back of the card.

"What is it?" Harriet asked.

"Professor Dumbledore is friends with Nicolas Flamel, i-it's right here, on the chocolate frog card!" Neville declared in a hissed whisper and showed them all. Sure enough, there it was, "...and his work on alchemy with his friend, Nicolas Flamel."

Hermione groaned and flopped over backwards onto her back on the floor. "We could have learned who Nicolas Flamel was ages ago... by the sounds of it we should have just known who he was in the first place if Flamel's mentioned so casually on the back of a chocolate frog card!"

Harriet nodded and patted her friend's shoulder while the others merely fell about laughing again. Harriet couldn't help it either as she started laughing too. Even Hermione laughed, though Neville just looked around at everyone, bemused at what was so funny about the situation.

That night as she laid in bed, despite the humour of everything that had happened after Neville had come back, and Kieran's advising her not to, Harriet couldn't help but worry. What if her friends were wrong and they did something to Professor Snape and got expelled? And also, what if they were right, but Professor Snape was too fast for them?

Harriet pounded a fist on her bed in frustration. She still just couldn't believe it. She didn't doubt what Ronnie and Hermione had seen, but why would Professor Snape try to kill her? He had absolutely no reason to that Harriet could see.

Harriet rolled over and sighed as she hugged her pillow tight to her chest. What was she going to do? The match was only a week away, but then again, a whole week would give her time to think of something, wouldn't it?

## * * * *

Unfortunately, the following week ended up passing with indecent speed. Harriet felt herself trembling a little as she walked down to the pitch. The weather was indeed as chilly as Wood had hinted it would be, but Harriet was sure that wasn't where her chills were coming from. Between homework and practice, she'd had very little time with which to come up with a plan for how to deal with Professor Snape. Ronnie's suggestion had been perhaps the most likely to help: "Break your leg!"

Though Harriet knew this was a common and ironic way of wishing someone "good luck" back in the Muggle world, she knew Ronnie was completely serious about it. However, as Hermione pointed out, even if Harriet did break her leg, Madame Pomfrey would be able to mend it instantly.

"Well, maybe that'll keep the greasy git in line..." Harriet overheard Fred mutter to George as she entered the changing room. Fred and George were over by the door to the pitch, and both were grinning broadly.

"What's that?" Angelina asked from the bench nearby.

Fred and George both turned, smirking to the room at large.

"Dumbledore's in the stands."

"No way!" Katie said, and they all crossed quickly to peer out into the stands. Sure enough, sitting serenely next to Professor Quirrell and Professor McGonagall was Professor Dumbledore. Harriet felt her courage growing exponentially with every heartbeat. With Professor Dumbledore in the stands, no one would try anything this time. Harriet smirked and practically skipped into the changing room.

Shortly after that, they were all headed out onto the pitch. Wood had given his usual pep-talk, but somehow Harriet hadn't heard him. Instead, she kept thinking about how well she was going to do in this match. Hufflepuff wasn't going to have a chance.

Harriet grinned as she mounted her broom, and kept her eyes locked on the crate of Quidditch balls. Professor Snape opened the container and let the balls loose, and they all kicked off. Harriet did her best to watch the direction the Snitch went, heading after it already instead of heading straight up to reconnoitre as her opponent on the Hufflepuff team did. She looked back and forth frantically, finally remembering Wood's words to her, telling her to catch the Snitch as soon as possible. She made it her singular focus as she shot across the pitch as fast as she could.

Finally, she saw it. Harriet flattened herself against her broom and shot after the Snitch. From above, the Hufflepuff seeker, a much older, and good-looking boy rolled over and dived, having spotted Harriet in pursuit. As he was heavier and had the height advantage, he was gaining some good speed and seemed to be catching up to Harriet. She grinned however as the Hufflepuff seeker levelled out. He was almost level with her, shoulder to shoulder, now his built up speed was carrying him past her.

Without warning, the Snitch changed course going straight upwards. Harriet hauled back on the handle of her broom and climbed straight up after it. The Hufflepuff seeker, however, couldn't follow the manoeuvre and shot forward, trying to turn hard. Harriet kept her eyes locked on the Snitch, only barely able to hear the roar of the crowd over the sound of the wind in her ears.

The Snitch changed course again, and Harriet hauled back on the handle again, now heading straight back downwards. The yellow blur of the Hufflepuff seeker trying to catch back up shot past her, then the black blur of Professor Snape whipped by as she stretched out her hand.

"YES!" Harriet cried as she felt her fingers clench down over the now struggling golden ball. She slowed to a stop and finally heard the roaring crowd. Harriet set down and saw her team and her friends running towards her. Long-legged Ronnie was the first to reach her.

"That was amazing!" Ronnie cried as she flung her arms around Harriet.

"You were brilliant Harriet, truly brilliant!" Hermione declared as she hugged Harriet as well.

"That's my girl!" Wood cried, tears in his eyes as he forced his way in and hoisted Harriet up onto his shoulders. Harriet blushed but beamed around at the rest of Gryffindor House as everyone cheered her. She felt her chest swell; she wasn't just a famous name anymore. She'd out-flown a much older student and caught the Snitch faster than anyone else had in the history of Hogwarts.

Harriet felt her blush increase a few minutes later however when the Hufflepuff seeker came up to her after Wood put Harriet down again and shook her hand. His jawline looked chiselled, his wavy, dark brown hair was windswept, and his grey eyes beamed as he smiled down at her.

"Wow, that was some flying Potter, you showed me what-for, I tell you," he said, smiling down at her. Harriet smiled up at him sheepishly and shook his hand back.

"Thanks, you were terrific too; you probably would have had it if it hadn't changed direction."

"Heh," the boy scoffed and shrugged. "I should have bled off more speed sooner. You out-flew me, fair and square."

"Well, th-thanks, er...?" Harriet replied, suddenly feeling embarrassed she did not know his name in return.

"Diggory, Cedric Diggory. Don't get too comfy though, Potter, I'll learn how to watch for that come next year," Diggory said, giving Harriet a little wink that made her insides flutter.

"W-we'll have to see about that," Harriet replied, trying to sound more confident than she felt. Diggory smiled and bid her a good afternoon before he headed back to commiserate with his team.

"Well now, Harriet, that was quite a display," Came a deep, soft voice from behind her.

Harriet turned around and found herself once again face to face with Professor Dumbledore. "I'm glad to see you found other things to occupy yourself with and not focus so much on that mirror."

"Y-yes sir," Harriet replied. Dumbledore smiled and patted her shoulder.

Hermione and Ronnie finally caught up with her again as Professor Dumbledore strode off. Harriet looked around suddenly confused. "Where's everyone else?" she asked.

Ronnie and Hermione looked at each other. "Uhhhh, Kieran had to help Neville and Marcus up to the hospital wing..."

"Why?" Harriet asked, suddenly concerned.

"Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were sitting behind us and being rude about Ronnie's family and Neville... Marcus punched Malfoy and gave him a black eye—" Hermione started explaining before Harriet jumped in.

"Awesome," Harriet muttered, grinning.

"—and Neville took on Crabbe and Goyle all by himself... he's out cold, and Marcus got a black eye in return when Crabbe and Goyle turned on him too after they'd finished with Neville..." Hermione explained, looking torn between disapproval at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, and displeasure at Marcus and Neville for rising to the Slytherin boys' taunts.

"Oh... well..." Harriet muttered softly. "A-at least they're alright?"

Ronnie giggled, and Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, we did tell Neville to stand up to them..." Ronnie said with a shrug.

"That's not the point!" Hermione declared looking disgruntled. "They could have seriously injured him!"

Ronnie and Hermione bickered most of the way back up to the castle. As they got near, however, something caught the corner of Harriet's eye. A black and hooded figure was crossing the grounds heading towards the Forbidden Forest. Even at this distance and under the hood and cloak, there was no mistaking who it was.

"Er, I'll be right back," Harriet muttered and threw her leg up over her broom and kicked off. She heard Ronnie and Hermione call after her in confusion, but Harriet didn't stop. A reckless curiosity had overtaken her. What was Professor Snape up to, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest right now?

Harriet took care to fly high enough to keep out of Professor Snape's sight as he looked around before finally stepping into the forest. Harriet skimmed the tops of the trees, eventually hovering right over one as Professor Snape stepped into a little clearing.

Harriet barely suppressed a gasp as she saw that Professor Quirrell was also standing in the clearing.

"D-d-don't know w-w-why you w-w-wanted to m-m-meet here of-of-of all p-p-places, S-S-Severus?"

Despite herself, Harriet barely suppressed a snort of laughter. Severus?

"Oh, I thought it was fitting and quiet... no one but we teachers assigned to protect it and the headmaster are supposed to know about the stone, are we not?"

"Y-y-yes we are, b-b-but—"

"Have you figured out how to get past that infernal dog of Hagrid's yet?"

Harriet held her breath now, listening intently.

"I-I-I d-d-don't know w-wha—"

"Don't play dumb with me now, Quirrell, I know you better than that, you don't want me as an enemy... now... your little bit of magic... I'm waiting..."

Harriet felt her entire body going rigid. While it was sounding like Professor Snape was bullying Professor Quirrell into giving him information, something in the knowing way that Professor Snape was talking to Professor Quirrell made it almost sound like they were accomplices.

"B-b-b-but S-S-S-Severus, I—"

"Very well, Quirinus... we'll discuss this another time," Professor Snape turned to leave. "Until then, think very carefully about where your loyalties truly lie..."

Harriet swallowed as she watched Professor Snape walk from the clearing, striding right underneath her on his way back up to the castle. Professor Quirrell, on the other hand, looked frozen in fear as Harriet silent turned around and sped back towards the school as fast as she could.

## * * * *

Back in the Gryffindor boys' first-year dormitory, Ronnie whistled.

"Blimey... that does sound like they're working together, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I didn't want to admit it, but now we've heard that I think I have no choice but to conclude that Professor Snape really is after the Stone..." Parvati muttered, looking dumbstruck.

Kieran nodded in agreement. "Aye, I can't but agree..."

"And by the sounds of it, Professor Quirrell's in on it with him," Harriet said.

"Sounds more like he's being forced into it if you ask me," Lavender said, indignantly, her arms crossed.

Harriet shrugged. "Maybe, Snape's in charge though, no matter what the situation is..."

Hermione was pacing, looking deeply troubled. "Well, it is some pretty strong evidence he's after the Stone, and Quirrell is trying to help him..."

"And...?" Ronnie asked, twirling her finger a little in a 'get on with it' way.

"And, it sounds like there's more defending the Stone than just Fluffy."

"Well, that's reassuring," Marcus said. His black-eye had been completely cured by Madame Pomfrey, though Neville was still "under observation."

"Except it also means that two of the people who're supposed to be guarding it are really trying to steal it," Harriet said dismally.

"Ah, yeah, yeah that is a bit of a problem isn't it?" Marcus said before sighing and lying back on the floor.

"Does anyone else think that maybe now's the time we should, I don't know, go to Professor Dumbledore about this?" Parvati suggested with a slightly sarcastic shrug.

"Well, we could," Kieran said, looking thoughtful. "But would he believe us...? We can't be the first Gryffindor students who've wanted to give Snape the sack... we might not sound very credible without any solid proof."

"True..." Parvati said in agreement.

"Poor Professor Quirrell... he's a horrible Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, but he always seems so nice..." Lavender said randomly.

"I'll bet you anything it's Snape bullying him into it," Ronnie said nodding.

"I wonder who the other professors guarding are...?" Marcus asked.

"And what they're using..." Ronnie agreed.

On that enigmatic note, however, the girls were all ushered from the room by a livid looking, and always on guard, Percy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	12. Hagrid's Secret

"If only making the right decision truly came easily, or without consequences."

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Harriet spent the next few weeks in constant worry. Knowing what Professor Snape was probably capable of, Harriet found herself worrying about the Stone and Fluffy's safety more and more. She had to admit that her concern for Fluffy was more from how much she knew Hagrid would be upset if something were to happen to one of his pets rather than worrying about the vicious three-headed dog himself. And, given the incredibly foul mood Professor Snape seemed to be in, he and Quirrell had not yet figured out how to get past Fluffy.

Harriet often found herself pausing at Fluffy's door when she passed it alone, a feeling of relief passing through her when she heard the sound of the giant dog's heavy breathing. Harriet and her friends had unanimously decided that if Professor Quirrell was in on attempting to steal the Stone, he was being forced into it by Professor Snape. Because of this, Hermione had suggested launching a mini-campaign to win Professor Quirrell's allegiance back from Professor Snape. They all took significant efforts to assist Professor Quirrell in class and to give him encouraging smiles when they passed him in the corridors. They also worked hard to tell people off if they picked on Professor Quirrell's stutter.

Despite their efforts, however, Professor Quirrell was starting to seem thinner and more careworn than ever. Harriet was sure that Professor Snape was riding him hard in an attempt to get him to find out how to get past Fluffy. The real mystery, however, was figuring out which other professors were involved in protecting the Stone aside from Professor Snape and Quirrell. Harriet knew she would feel better about the Stone's safety if she knew herself what lay between Professors Snape and Quirrell and the Stone.

As March wore on, one thing intruded on her mind, threatening to push both Professors Quirrell and Snape from forethought. Ronnie's birthday was only a week away. Harriet had never even celebrated her birthday before or another friend's. The last birthday she had 'attended' had been Dudley's last summer, during which she had freed a boa constrictor who had chased Dudley and his best friend Piers Polkiss out of the Reptile House.

More than anything else in the world, Harriet wanted her best friend's birthday to go better than that. She spent any time Ronnie wasn't around asking her other friends what she should get. It was Marcus and Dean, in the end, that had the best idea. Everyone pooled their money together, sending Hedwig off with an order to "Dusk to Dawn Dress," a wizarding shop, that Kieran and Scott knew, which sold Muggle clothing for witches and wizards who wanted to go incognito in the Muggle world.

The package arrived on the twenty-seventh three days before Ronnie's birthday. The shop had informed them of the delivery time, which allowed them time to get Ronnie away from the Great Hall before the post arrived. They would keep it up in the boys' dormitory to prevent Ronnie from opening it early. Harriet didn't trust her friend, who she knew was naturally inquisitive, not to peek in a box no matter who told her not to look in it.

Finally, the day arrived. Harriet was beside herself with excitement as she practically leapt out of bed and bounded over onto Ronnie's.

"AH!" Ronnie shrieked as Harriet landed on her knees so hard on Ronnie's mattress she bounced Ronnie a couple of inches into the air.

"Good morning!" Harriet exclaimed leaning down to give her exasperated friend a hug.

"M-morning," Ronnie mumbled returning the hug and looking utterly bewildered. "What's the occasion?"

"Your birthday, duh!" Harriet replied with an eye-roll. From the other beds, she could hear the grumbles of Hermione, Parvati and Lavender as Harriet's giddiness awoke them.

"My birthday, but it... oh, it is my birthday, isn't it?" Ronnie asked looking delighted. "You remembered!"

"Of course I did," Harriet laughed, "Now get dressed, we got you a present!"

Ronnie blinked in surprise but nodded, quickly getting dressed with Harriet (Harriet no longer felt quite so awkward changing in front of other girls) and they went down to the common room. The boys were still upstairs it seemed, and Ronnie kept grumbling about wanting to go to breakfast. Finally, the boys all came down the stairs as one, Marcus carrying the package from Dusk till Dawn's and looking incredibly pleased with himself as he set the box down on Ronnie's lap.

"Happy birthday, Ronnie!" they all said, and Ronnie went nearly as red as her hair, some of which she bashfully brushed behind her ear.

"Th-thanks everyone... I so wasn't expecting this... what'd you all get me?!" she asked excitedly.

Dean rolled his eyes. "It's a surprise! You gotta open it!"

"But Hermione, Parvati and Lav aren't here yet..." Ronnie moaned and pouted up at them all. Kieran laughed, and Seamus shook his head.

"So impatient..." Seamus muttered but looked pleased all the same.

About a minute later, the three other girls finally joined them, and Ronnie tore into the package eagerly. Harriet held her hands up to her mouth a complete mixture of excitement and worry filling her as she waited to see her best friend's reaction to the very first birthday present Harriet had ever gotten anyone.

Harriet wasn't disappointed. Ronnie's eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open as she pulled a pair of football boots and socks from the package, along with her very own football.

"Oh wow..." Ronnie moaned as she looked them over. "Oh I just... oh wow thank you all!" she went on looking up at them all with teary eyes. "They're even in the Gryffindor colours!" she said examining the socks and giggling.

"Try them on!" Harriet said feeling giddy. Ronnie nodded and quickly slipped off her shoes and socks replacing them with the new ones. They fit perfectly.

"Oh wow..." Ronnie muttered walking around a bit in the cleats. The little nubs on the bottom made a minute tap any time she stepped off the carpet onto the stone floor.

"I'm so happy you like them," Marcus said, beaming. "Dean and I went through catalogue after catalogue trying to find the best stuff."

At these words, Ronnie suddenly looked sheepish.

"O-oh... it... it didn't cost too much, did it?" she asked nervously.

"Nah," Dean said. "We all pitched in a little bit."

Everyone else nodded in agreement and Ronnie eagerly went around the circle hugging everyone in turn.

"Oh thank you all, it's wonderful, we all so have to go and try them out this afternoon!" Ronnie squealed in delight giving Harriet an extra hug before sitting back down to put her regular shoes back on.

They went down to breakfast together. Ronnie carried her football with her, occasionally pausing to dribble or balance it on the top of her foot or knee like she'd seen professional footballers do in the book she'd borrowed from Dean. Seamus and Lavender looked slightly bemused by Ronnie's interest in a sport where no one flew on broomsticks with only one ball, but they seemed happy enough that Ronnie was so delighted.

Predictably, however, the Slytherins did try to ruin the good mood.

"What is that Weasley's carrying?" Malfoy drawled from the Slytherin table as the group walked past them in the Great Hall. "I mean I knew your family had no proper wizarding pride, Weasley, but I mean really..."

Ronnie looked as though she'd deflated.

Harriet scowled at Malfoy. "You know, what is ‘proper wizarding pride?’ I mean, if all that means is walking around looking like you have something smelly under your nose and two trolls following you around, no one would want to be a wizard."

Malfoy glared, and Crabbe and Goyle cracked their knuckles. Parkinson and Fanfarró both tried to goad Malfoy into retaliating, but Malfoy didn't respond. This puzzled Harriet a little at first as they made their way to the Gryffindor table, though she was sure Malfoy was going to retaliate in some way.

Despite initially looking upset, Ronnie seemed cheered up immensely by how Harriet had gotten Malfoy to shut up. Everyone else had patted Harriet on the back too. It confused Harriet a little as she discretely watched Malfoy from the Gryffindor table. Perhaps he had merely expected no response, and had been caught off guard for that reason?

After breakfast, they immediately went back up to the Gryffindor common room where Ronnie grabbed her new football gear. They all went down into the grounds where they made up two teams of four. Kieran, Lavender and Neville sat on the sidelines with Hagrid who turned up to watch, and Scott came out to play as well. The teams were split evenly between two guys and two girls. To make playing fairer, Dean and Marcus, who had played before, offered to captain each team.

As neither team had a proper goalkeeper, they had a bit more fun as both teams ended up getting rather high scores, though Marcus and Dean were quick to point out how in real football matches the scores were often quite low, particularly in the professional or Olympic levels. This, of course, prompted more explanations, as neither Lavender, Seamus, nor Ronnie knew what the Olympics were.

They were just about finished and ready to head in for lunch when something Harriet felt she should have predicted finally happened. Marcus had kicked the ball in the air from one side of their makeshift pitch to the other. While the ball was in mid-air, a jet of red sparks collided with it. It had deflated before it even hit the ground.

"Hey!" Ronnie exclaimed in outrage turning around to see Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle smirking as they approached, Malfoy casually pocketing his wand.

"Thanks for that target, Van Der Lakk, I wanted the practice," Ronnie and Marcus both started towards Malfoy, but the rest held them back.

"Get stuffed, Malfoy," Parvati snarled as she put an arm around Ronnie's shoulder. Ronnie was looking at her deflated birthday present on the verge of tears.

"What's goin' on 'ere," came Hagrid's voice and they heard his heavy footsteps as he approached.

Malfoy narrowed his eyes. Hagrid was staff, but he wasn't a teacher, so he didn't have much authority, but Harriet could tell that even Malfoy knew that if Hagrid told another teacher what had happened, they were more likely to believe Hagrid's story than Draco's.

"Oh nothing, uh, sir..." Malfoy said, emphasising the word 'sir' in a way Harriet didn't like. "We were merely walking along when we saw some strange, dangerous looking object in the air we didn't recognise..."

"Oh, s'at right eh?" Hagrid said with a disbelieving tone.

"Oh yes... sir..." Malfoy muttered before he turned to walk away, though he jumped backwards in shock. Standing directly behind him, Crabbe and Goyle was Oliver Wood.

"Somehow, I don't think that sounds right, you little toad," Wood growled. Even Crabbe and Goyle who usually seemed quite large and brutish in comparison to most students, looked less impressive when Harriet saw them next to the tall, broad-shouldered figure of Wood.

"Now, now," Hagrid said quickly, looking around and hoping another teacher was nearby. "No need to be startin' no fights here."

"Oh there won't be a fight, Hagrid," Wood said in his commanding voice. "Not if this little toad apologises like a good boy..."

Malfoy swallowed but tried to look defiant. "You wouldn't dare..."

"Wouldn't I?" Wood growled. Crabbe and Goyle both looked at Malfoy for instructions. As thick as they were, they both appeared to realise that Wood was more than a match for all of them put together. Malfoy looked suddenly worried and turned, looking at Ronnie's feet.

"S-sorry..." he mumbled.

"So they can hear you..."

"Sorry," Malfoy said again, louder and more bitter sounding.

"Scram," Wood said.

Harriet watched as Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle ran away, muttering insults at Wood under their breath as they went.

"Wow..." Marcus muttered under his breath.

Wood merely shrugged. "It was nothing," Wood turned and looked sympathetic. "Sorry about your ball, Ronnie, here."

Wood drew his wand and pointed it at the flattened ball. "Accio," he said, and the ball leapt into his hands. He held it in one hand and casually tapped it with the wand. "Reparo."

The ball instantly re-inflated.

"Here you are, Ronnie, good as new, happy birthday by the way," Wood said with a smile.

Hagrid beamed. "That was right decent of yeh, Wood, right decent indeed."

"Thanks, Hagrid," Wood said waving at them all. "Well, I'm off to do some planning. Remember practice tonight, Potter."

"Yes sir," Harriet said quickly, though blushed brightly at her eagerness and shot a dirty look at Dean as he mouthed, 'yes sir?' at her teasingly. Harriet mouthed 'oh shut up,' back.

Wood chuckled and strode away towards the Quidditch pitch. They all turned and looked at Ronnie who looked as though she'd been turned to stone.

"H-he knew my name... and that it was my birthday..." Her eyes suddenly went wide, and she squealed sharing an excited look with Lavender and Parvati. "He knew my name and my birthday!"

The rest of them all rolled their eyes, despite still sharing a good laugh all the same.

## * * * *

The following week, things at Hogwarts turned on their head. Even though the exams weren't until the end of June, the professors were piling on more and more homework. Hermione and Scott weren't helping. The two of them seemed to spend every waking moment studying for the upcoming exams. Even the Easter holidays ended up being tainted with excessive amounts of homework and study.

The following Friday afternoon, Harriet and Ronnie found they were joining Hermione, Kieran, Scott and Marcus in the library.

"Ugh, I'm never going to get this all..." Ronnie moaned in defeat as she slammed her book shut.

"It's okay, Ronnie, we have plenty of time," Harriet soothed her friend. Ronnie didn't look very convinced.

"We do not have plenty of time; it's only two months!" Hermione exclaimed, appalled.

"Right, as I said, plenty of time," Harriet teased.

Kieran and Marcus chuckled while Scott barely suppressed a snicker. Hermione rolled her eyes and resumed her reading. Harriet finally sat back and stretched. She rubbed a hand over her forehead when a massive but all too familiar figure loomed into view.

"Oh, hello Hagrid, how are you?!" Harriet exclaimed, though her exuberance drew a scathing look from Madame Pince who "shushed" Harriet sternly.

Hagrid jumped when Harriet greeted him and nearly knocked over a bookcase.

"Oh-oh, eh, 'ello there you lot, what are you up to?" Hagrid asked. Harriet thought Hagrid sounded nervous, as though he was trying too hard to sound casual. Harriet also couldn't help but notice Hagrid kept his back turned, holding one hand behind him.

"Hagrid... what are you hiding?"

Hagrid suddenly looked worried. "N-nothin'!" he stuttered. "I just popped in to do a bit of readin', er must be off..." Hagrid said. He backed rapidly away from them his beetle-black eyes darting back and forth as he did.

The group all turned to look at each other.

"What on earth was that about...?" Kieran asked.

"I'll go see what he was looking up!" Ronnie exclaimed. She jumped up from the table. She returned a minute later carrying a large stack of books and setting them on the table with a solid thunk.

"He... he was looking up stuff about dragons..." Ronnie said. "Not just about dragons... but about raising dragons..."

"Raising dragons?!" Harriet asked looking at the book titles. Sure enough, every single book Ronnie had brought over had something to do with dragon breeding or dragon identification.

Kieran leaned forward and put his elbows on the table burying his face in his hands. "Hagrid had a dragon egg behind his back... didn't he...?" he asked.

"Probably..." Scott said with a sigh.

"Well, what's so bad about that? He's always wanted a dragon after all...?" Harriet asked.

"What's so bad?!" Ronnie hissed. "Harriet, I've told you it's illegal... has been for almost three hundred years!"

Harriet felt silly. "S-sorry, I just..."

"Well, we don't know for sure..." Hermione cut in. "Though we do need to know for sure..."

Scott sighed closing his book. "Alright, let's get to the bottom of this so we can get back to studying..."

Hermione agreed though Kieran, Marcus, Harriet and Ronnie seemed far less interested in the latter prospect. They got up from the table and put away their books before setting off to Hagrid's hut.

Once they arrived, they were surprised to see all the windows closed and the curtains were drawn. It would have looked as though Hagrid wasn't home if it weren't for the smoke rising from the chimney, hinting that for some reason, Hagrid had a fire going despite the warm Spring weather.

Harriet reached the door first and knocked. Fang immediately began his deep, booming bark that always made Harriet jump no matter how much she prepared herself for it.

"Who is it?!" asked Hagrid from behind the door in a very urgent tone.

"Hagrid? It's us..."

"O-oh, uh, c-couldn't come back a bit later could yeh? A little busy at the moment..."

Ronnie stamped a foot in frustration, "Hagrid, come on open up, we know about the egg—"

Ronnie didn't have time to finish before the door was whipped open.

"SHHHH!" Hagrid said gruffly. He looked terrified as he glanced back and forth even though no one else was anywhere near his cabin. "You know, how do you know?!" Hagrid asked stunned.

As they looked up at him, Harriet became immediately aware of two things: one was how Hagrid looked as though he'd been sweating profusely and the other was a sweaty smell that washed over them which confirmed her first observation.

"Well, after we saw the books you'd been reading it was obvious, Hagrid mate..." Scott admitted.

Hagrid looked crestfallen and stepped aside. "Come on in then..."

The group shuffled into the hut.

"Blimey Hagrid... it's sweltering! Can't you open a window...?" Ronnie asked. She loosened her tie and the top button of her shirt. Kieran and Scott followed suit and peeled off their jumpers.

"Can't, Ronnie, sorry, the egg needs to be kept at this constant heat... dragon mothers breath on their eggs, see, and, well, I don't want ter risk anyone peekin' in and seein' it..." Hagrid explained as he stoked the blazing fire. In the middle of the flames sat a black egg.

"What kind is it, Hagrid?" Scott asked. He crouched beside the giant man and gazed at the egg with great interest.

"A Norwegian Ridgeback, very rare," Hagrid said with a proud smile.

"And vicious..." Ronnie muttered in Harriet's ear, looking stricken. Harriet grimaced as they all looked back at the egg.

"Where did you even get one?" Marcus asked. He sounded a little exasperated.

"Won it in a game of cards at the Hog's Head pub last night down in the village."

"Someone was just wandering around with a dragon egg?" asked Marcus sceptically.

Hagrid shrugged. "Yeah you get types like that in the Hog's Head, bit shady place compared to the Three Broomsticks, but it's quieter when you want a more relaxing drink."

"Um, H-Hagrid..." Hermione said looking around the room. "I'm sure you'd do a marvellous job raising a dragon and all but... I do have one slight observation as to why this might not be that great an idea..."

"Eh, what's that?" Hagrid asked sharply. "I know dragons are illegal but... we're all the way out 'ere at Hogwarts, no one needs ter know, yeah?"

"N-no... not that..." Hermione went on, looking around the hut again. "It's just... you live in a wooden house..."

The rest of the group all looked around the hut too and realised Hermione was right. However, Hagrid had become absorbed in cooing over the egg again and seemed not to have heard her.

Harriet looked down at the egg and Hagrid and suddenly felt curious. "Hagrid...? Can I ask you something?"

"Eh?" Hagrid asked though he sounded distracted.

"Well, I was just wondering... if you knew... who all was guarding the Philosopher's Stone for Flamel?"

The effect that this question had on Hagrid was alarming. He nearly jumped with how fast he stood up and spun around to look at Harriet.

"What?! How'd you find out about that?!" Hagrid asked mortified.

"Well, it did take us a little while, but we asked Dora Flamel, she's a new Slytherin, and she didn't tell us, but she gave us enough information to find out," Harriet explained. Hagrid grumbled and sat down in a chair.

"No, I can't tell yeh that, Harriet, sorry. For one thing, I don't know meself..."

Harriet stole a glance around the room to each of her friends in turn, before settling on Hermione. Hermione smiled knowingly directing her comment to Hagrid.

"Oh come now, Hagrid... we know you don't want to tell us, but you do know at least who else is guarding it... I mean... Dumbledore trusts you more than anyone else around here doesn't he?"

"Yeah," Harriet chimed in. "He trusted you to take the Stone out of Gringotts... and to take me to Diagon Alley for the very first time..."

Hagrid's beard twitched in a smile, and he gave them a knowing look.

"You two do know how ter weasel information outta folks don't yeh? Alright, well, I don't suppose it would really hurt for yeh ter know whos' guardin' it."

Harriet and all her friends beamed as they sat down around the room to listen.

"Well, let's see... I let him borrow Fluffy... blimey I'll be glad when Fluffy can get outta there and stretch his legs again... Professor Sprout did summut of course, Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall, Professor Sinistra, Professor Quirrell, Professor Dumbledore, of course, did summut of his own, oh and Professor Snape of course."

By the sound of it, the Stone was well protected. On the other hand, Professor Snape had not asked Professor Quirrell about what any of the other teachers had done to protect the stone. Did that mean they had already figured out what the other teachers had done, and only Fluffy was left? Harriet did admit to herself that knowing Dumbledore had done something to protect the stone made her feel considerably better.

As she walked back across the grounds from Hagrid's hut to the school, Harriet also had to admit that one more thing to worry about was not what she needed. What would happen to Hagrid if anyone else found out he had an illegal dragon egg? She was sure Ronnie would know, but she was afraid to ask.

"Well, that was _certainly_ what we needed," Marcus muttered, his voice full of irony.

"Yeah..." Kieran intoned. "As if all the studying wasn't enough..."

"How fast do dragons typically grow?" Harriet asked, with a mixture of curiosity and dread. Scott and Ronnie both shrugged.

"Depends on the species..." Ronnie said with a sigh. "We might be lucky though, if Hagrid just got the egg it might be young enough that it won't hatch before the end of term..." Ronnie suddenly snorted. "You know, I wonder what it would be like to have a crazy, interesting life, don't you? Compared to all this drab and boring stuff..." Ronnie asked the group at large. In spite of themselves, everyone laughed.

It only took a week to prove Ronnie's hopes wrong. An owl fluttered down in front of Harriet at the breakfast table with a note. Harriet pulled it off and read. Hagrid's untidy scrawl was even scratchier and harder to read than usual as he'd written the note, which had only two words: "It's hatching!"

"Pleasseeeeee," Ronnie begged to Hermione, who was patently refusing to skip Herbology to go see the dragon. "It's a hatching baby dragon, Hermione! How often does anyone get to see that!?"

"Shut up!" Harriet hissed when she glanced over her shoulder. As she'd suspected, Malfoy had followed them, most likely intent taunt Harriet more. However, the look on his face wasn't that of someone about to say a taunt. It was the face of a person who'd just been given an early Christmas present. Harriet glared, and the three girls sped up, away from Malfoy.

"H-how much do you think he overheard...?" Hermione asked terrified.

"Probably every word, judging by that look of glee he had..." Ronnie groaned burying her face in her hands. "Sorry, Harriet, I was just so excited and—"

"It's alright," Harriet said hugging friend around the waist.

Ronnie looked so miserable that in the end Hermione partially relented. She said they could go immediately after Herbology to see the dragon instead. This cheered Ronnie up a little.

They whispered what Hagrid had sent in the note to Kieran and Marcus who agreed to join them to see the baby dragon. The moment that Professor Sprout called the end of class, they threw down their trowels and gloves and made their way as fast as they could to Hagrid's hut.

Hagrid looked flush with excitement as he flung the door open at their knock. "It's almost free!" Hagrid said and quickly ushered them inside.

The egg was now in the middle of Hagrid's table, covered in a spider web of little cracks. It gave one or two more wiggles before suddenly a long, clawed foot burst from one of the patches.

It happened very quickly after that. The baby dragon flopped out of the egg onto the table looking oddly weak and feeble. The baby's wings were curled tightly around its long, thin body, each one twice as long as the dragon's whole body. Its head had the short stubs of horns, its nose blunt with a little bump like baby chickens had on the end of their beaks for cracking the egg from inside. The eyes were large and orange. Its eyes darted about lighting on each of them in turn. It seemed like it was studying and sizing them all up.

It looked at Hagrid last.

"Oh bless 'im, look, he already knows his mummy," Hagrid cooed and reached out to pet the dragon. Despite having looked nearly helpless when it first rolled out of the egg, the dragon now sprang to its feet and hissed, snapping its mouth at Hagrid's finger, a mouth that it revealed was full of small, needle-sharp teeth.

Hagrid merely laughed at the violent gesture. "Oh, wants to play the little scamp!" Hagrid declared and began playing a sort of dancing game with his hands and the dragon, trying to pet the baby who kept darting out of the way of his hand, snapping his jaws and flaring his wings as if trying to look bigger than he was.

It was at that moment that the baby's tail whipped, nearly smacking Kieran in the face. Kieran gave a yell of shock when suddenly his face drained of colour, and he pointed at the window.

"There, through the curtains, a face!"

Everyone spun around just in time to see something move from between the gap in Hagrid's curtains. Hagrid pulled back the curtain and looked out the window.

"It's a kid, Slytherin by the looks of 'im; he's running back towards the school!"

At the word Slytherin, Harriet felt her heart sink. Sure enough, when she peered out of the front door (as Hagrid blocked the window), there was no mistaking the form of Draco Malfoy. He had seen the dragon.

## * * * *

Despite Hagrid's insistence that he could handle the baby and that there was no evidence Malfoy had seen the dragon before they'd spotted him, Harriet and her friends immediately put themselves to work trying to think of a plan for getting rid of the baby dragon.

Within a week, Norbert (as Hagrid had decided to call him) had doubled in size. His appetite seemed insatiable, and Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione, Kieran, Marcus and Scott all took turns helping Hagrid feed the rapidly growing terror.

Norbert seemed to have gained a taste for live meat and was refusing the dead rats that Hagrid had been giving him, and so they had to move to live ones. At this point, Ronnie bowed out of assisting Hagrid. It was too traumatic for Ronnie to watch Norbert tear into the live rats, as each one reminded her of Scabbers.

The final straw came a week later when Kieran came back from helping Hagrid one night, clutching his right hand which they were shocked to see was wrapped in bloody bandages.

"The little blighter bit me!" Kieran snarled as he handed Harriet the cloak. "And my writing and wand hand to. This is going to be horrible tomorrow in class."

"Well," Hermione said as she examined the wound, Kieran wincing as she pulled the bandages off to look at it. "It, it doesn't look too bad right now... just his fangs..."

At the word "fangs," Kieran groaned.

"Please tell me dragon bites are not venomous..."

"I... I don't know..." Hermione admitted with a sigh. "I wouldn't think so. Dragons don’t need to be venomous, as they’re so large."

"The last thing we want is to go to Madame Pomfrey..." Kieran said morosely. "Hagrid has truly lost his mind... he told me off for frightening Norbert after it bit me! He was singing it a lullaby by the time I left..."

Ronnie snorted in disgust.

The next day, unfortunately, did not increase their luck. Kieran's hand had swollen to twice its normal size during the night, and in the end, they decided it was no good, he had to go to Madame Pomfrey.

Madame Pomfrey was a kindly witch, but very strict when it came to patients' well-being, as was her quasi-assistant, Miss Momori. While Miss Momori only assisted in the hospital wing, Harriet knew she taught advanced classes for sixth and seventh-year students who wanted to be Healers after Hogwarts. The two were so efficient a team it seemed as though Kieran had barely stepped into the hospital wing before both of the women had whisked him off to bed, Marcus following to help Kieran change while Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie waited for them to finish.

The trio joined after he was in bed and Miss Momori stood beside his bed with a clipboard, jotting down the symptoms.

"Er, h-hypothetically speaking... miss... i-if say a person had been bitten by an... er... unknown lizard... what would the proper treatment be?" Kieran asked a mixture of dread and interest in his voice.

Miss Momori pursed her lips and gave Kieran a searching look.

"An _unknown_ lizard...?"

"Er... yeah..." Kieran went on doing his best to look casual.

"We'll take some samples of the area around the bite to try and determine if it was caused by an infection or a venom. Then we'll have to go from there. You may be here for a week or so O'Brien," said Madame Pomfrey as she stepped around the curtain her arms crossed. She looked at Kieran with a piercing glare.

"I've seen all kinds of injuries in here, O'Brien, so no need to be truly worried, but I will need more information before I can set about treating you. I do urge you to be completely honest, and to remember that as your healers, whatever you tell me or Miss Momori will be held in the strictest confidence."

Harriet felt herself exhale in relief.

"Unless, of course, I feel the information poses a serious threat to the life of any other students..."

Harriet's heart sank. A rapidly growing dragon was indeed something that would eventually become 'a serious threat to the lives of any other students,' but how could they get past telling Madame Pomfrey just precisely what it was that had done it without getting Hagrid in trouble?

"Uh, you lot go on to breakfast... thanks for helping me here, I think I can handle it... need to keep things confidential of course," Kieran said with a conspiratorial wink.

Harriet gave him a short nod to show she'd understood before she turned with the others and they slowly made their way out of the hospital wing.

"Okay, this has gone on long enough... we have to get rid of that ruddy dragon and fast..." Ronnie groaned.

"If only your brother Charlie wasn't in Romania, Ronnie," Marcus grumbled.

Ronnie stopped dead in her tracks.

"What is it?" Hermione asked.

Ronnie's face split into a wide grin. "Charlie! Oh, Marcus, you're brilliant!" she exclaimed and gave him a tight hug and kissed his cheek leaving Marcus almost as red as her hair. "I'll be right back!" Without another word, Ronnie darted off down the corridor.

"Wow, I thought only you ran off without explaining what you're up to, Hermione," Marcus teased. He came to his senses placing a hand on the spot where Ronnie had just kissed him.

"Oh shut up," Hermione hissed elbowing Harriet in the ribs for laughing at Marcus' comment.

Ronnie caught up with them again just as they were leaving the Great Hall. Harriet had thought ahead wrapping up some toast to bring Ronnie in case she hadn't arrived in time, which Ronnie took eagerly and started eating.

"Okay, the letter's on its way."

"What letter? And where's Kieran?" Scott asked as he walked up behind them.

"Yes, what letter?" Harriet asked Ronnie.

"Oh, sorry, to Charlie. I know he's not here in the country, but he has friends who are who I'm sure would agree to take Norbert off our hands..."

"Brilliant!" Hermione declared hugging Ronnie.

Marcus chuckled and rolled his eyes at Scott.

"Sorry mate, Kieran's up in the hospital wing... Norbert bit him last night; hand swelled up like a balloon."

Scott groaned and headed off towards the hospital wing after his best friend. Harriet smiled at him affectionately.

"It's nice to see two friends like that... isn't it?" She said aloud, but no one seemed to have heard her.

It took four nail-biting days for Charlie's reply to arrive. In that time, Kieran's hand had managed to come down a little in size, but he still couldn't move it very well. When the letter finally did arrive, Harriet felt her heart swell with hope. It had come at night, the owl fluttering into the open common room window instead of with the usual morning post.

 

_Dear Ronnie,_

_I'd be glad to take the dragon for Hagrid. Romania's not its natural habitat, really, but I'm sure it'll get on well enough here. The Transylvanian government and the high-council agreed quite readily to allow the dragon to be brought here. I have some friends who are on their way back from holiday who will be happy to bring the dragon back with them. Meet them with the dragon at the top of the astronomy tower next Saturday night._

_Love,_

_Charlie_

 

Ronnie gave a whoop of glee and Marcus collapsed into an armchair with relief. That meant in a mere four days they would finally be rid of Norbert; if only Hagrid would agree.

They went straight to Hagrid's hut the following morning to tell him. Fang was lying outside the cabin with a burned and bandaged looking tail, his expression somewhat dismal as he limped over to greet them, apparently afraid to bark, probably because it seemed to set off Norbert. Hagrid became immediately teary-eyed when they told him through the open window of his hut (they were no longer allowed inside now that Norbert was a full six feet long).

Despite how attached he'd become to Norbert, Hagrid finally agreed to let Norbert go. Harriet supposed his decision was primarily helped by the fact Norbert had just bitten him on the leg before setting his bed on fire.

Harriet wanted to feel sorry for Hagrid, but she just couldn't. The thought of finally getting rid of that already dangerous (and getting more dangerous by the day) monster was just too good to be true.

However, her excitement soon turned to dread again. The morning of the escape, Ronnie came bursting into the dormitory where Harriet was sitting and talking with Parvati and Lavender as they did her nails, something Harriet had felt oddly curious about lately.

"Harriet! Emergency!" Ronnie declared, making all of them jump, and Lavender upended the bottle of nail polish all over her bed.

"What?!" Harriet asked, trying to catch her breath.

"D-Draco! Norbert! Letter! He knows!" was all Ronnie managed to say her eyes wide with terror.

"What?!" All three of the other girls asked as Ronnie slumped back against the wall and tried to catch her breath.

"Draco... I was taking a book out of my bag to lend to Neville and Charlie's letter fell out of it! Draco picked it up, and Crabbe and Goyle blocked me from snatching it back before he'd read it. He knows we're going to be moving Norbert tonight!"

"Norbert?" Parvati asked. "Who's Norbert?"

Harriet groaned and flopped back on the bed, ignoring Lavender who was muttering angrily, trying to clean up the spilt nail polish.

"Alright, what have you all been up to without telling the rest of us <i>this</i> time...?" Parvati asked crossing her arms and looking upset. "I thought we were friends..."

"We are Parvati... just... well... we didn't think you'd want to help with this and it was another case of 'the fewer people who know, the better'..." Harriet explained wearily.

Parvati narrowed her eyes.

Harriet sighed. "Hagrid has a baby dragon in his hut..."

Lavender stopped cleaning, and Parvati's arms slackened.

"A dragon!?"

"J-Just a baby..." Ronnie said sheepishly.

"Okay... yeah... that's something I don't think I would have wanted to help with..." Parvati said, sounding exasperated.

"Please don't tell anyone!" Harriet pleaded. "There are people coming tonight to take it away... but no one can know..."

Parvati looked at Lavender, and they both nodded.

"Alright... but seriously... you all need to be better about trusting your friends..."

"I know... I'm sorry, thank you though Lav, Parvati..."

They smiled, and Harriet turned to Ronnie. "Okay, Ronnie, we need to figure out our plan fast... let's go find Hermione and Marcus..."

"And probably Scott too," Ronnie added and darted from the room.

Harriet sighed, thanked Lavender and Parvati for her partially finished nails and headed off after Ronnie.

## * * * *

In the end, Harriet and Scott were selected to be the ones to take Norbert up to the top of the Astronomy tower. Kieran was still in the hospital wing, Ronnie was afraid of Norbert, Hermione refused to take the risk, and Harriet wouldn't let anyone take her cloak anywhere without her.

At ten-o-clock, Harriet put on her invisibility cloak and slowly made her way out of the portrait hole. She was going to meet Scott at the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, which unlike the other houses wasn't hidden, but apparently was almost impossible to get through anyway.

When she arrived at the door, she wasn't sure what she should do. Should she knock? She decided to wait for a little, and sure enough, five minutes later a voice came from the other side of the door.

"Harriet... are you there yet?"

"Yes," Harriet whispered, and the door slowly opened. Scott smiled at her as Harriet pulled the cloak off her head.

"Quick, get under the cloak," Harriet whispered, and Scott ducked down under the cloak. They slowly made their way down to the front door and out into the grounds. Harriet breathed a sigh of relief as the fresh night air came under the cloak. She had nearly held her breath the entire time they had been in the castle, listening for any sound of Peeves or Filch and Mrs Norris.

Hagrid was nearly sobbing once they'd arrived. He had somehow managed to force Norbert into a crate which rattled aggressively as they got near it. Harriet also felt a little squeamish as Hagrid handed her a cage of rats to send along for Charlie's friends to feed Norbert. Hagrid sobbed even louder as Harriet and Scott lifted the cloak over themselves and the crate and gingerly carried it out of his hut towards the castle.

Once again, their way seemed mostly clear until a noise up ahead made them stop and draw back into the shadows, trying to hide even though they were invisible. To their surprise and great pleasure, they saw that it was Professor McGonagall who was pulling Draco Malfoy down the corridor by his ear.

"Ow, let go! I told you Professor, Potter and her friends have a dragon! They're taking it to the Astronomy Tower at midnight!"

"What rubbish," Professor McGonagall said, sounding furious. "Twenty points from Slytherin and detention for this, Malfoy, and I'll be reporting this to Professor Snape and your parents!"

Harriet felt overcome with glee as she and Scott made the rest of their way up to the Astronomy Tower. They only waited ten minutes before Charlie's friends arrived on broomsticks. They were a happy group who joked and shook Harriet and Scott's hands jovially. They seemed genuinely interested in Norbert, peering through a slat to get a better look. They jumped back, laughing as a little jet of flame shot out at them.

Harriet and Scott watched as they fit a special harness they'd made to the crate suspending it between four of the brooms before they kicked off.

"Well, we're free of Norbert, and Malfoy's got detention..." Scott said.

Harriet nodded in agreement as she picked up her invisibility cloak. Harriet's fear turned to relief, a sudden tiredness spreading through her. Scott smiled warmly and helped her put the cloak over her head.

"Thank you for helping with this, Scott... you didn't have to..." Harriet said softly, looking up at the taller boy. Scott smiled and rolled his eyes.

"Of course I did, you're all my friends," he replied.

"But you could have gotten in trouble, too. We didn't need to drag you into this."

"Drag me into what? I was in it from the start."

"But you're not—"

"Not a Gryffindor?" Scott asked, chuckling.

"Sorry, that was kinda stupid of me wasn't it?" Harriet said feeling a little ashamed.

"Not stupid, just house-centric," Scott said and gave her a one-armed hug. "Now let's get out of here and stop pushing our luck."

"Deal," Harriet replied with a smile, and they started down the stairway from the Astronomy Tower.

It seemed as though their luck was starting to fail. At the bottom of the stairs was Filch. As they still had the cloak on, he didn't see them, and they managed to duck under his outstretched arm as he started up the stairs, muttering under his breath.

Scott gave Harriet a little victorious smirk, and Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled back. They finally reached the Ravenclaw common room, and Scott reached up, knocking on the bronze eagle-knocker in the middle of the door. Harriet expected it to ask a password, but she was surprised.

"What does the poor possess that the rich desperately lack, and will kill you if you consume it?"

"Uhh..." Harriet started, but Scott shushed her and scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"Hmmm... the poor have it... and the rich need it...?" Scott muttered to himself, looking thoughtfully at the door. Finally, his face broke into a wide smile. "Ah, 'Nothing'."

"Most wise," said the knocker and the door swung open.

"Wow, you have to answer riddles instead of giving a password? No wonder you don't try all that hard to hide your common room."

Scott merely chuckled and slid out from under the cloak. "I'll see you tomorrow, Harriet, safe trip back to your common room."

Harriet nodded and gave him an invisible hug around the middle that seemed to take him off guard before she finally set back off for Gryffindor tower.

However, it was when she entered the corridor to Gryffindor tower and Professor McGonagall's office that Harriet felt her heart sink. There was Professor McGonagall again, with a student, but this time it wasn't Malfoy. It was Neville.

"I'm sorry Professor, I-I was... I was..."

"No excuses, Longbottom, no, not a single word. Two students out of bed, I have never heard of such a thing! Nothing gave you the right to be out of bed at this hour, not even having forgotten the password."

"But I heard Malfoy saying he was going to try and get Harriet Potter in trouble; I was just trying to—"

"I have already caught Malfoy, Longbottom; you should trust to the staff to deal with such behaviour, rather than taking—"

But Professor McGonagall broke off and suddenly looked shocked. It was a logical expression because it wasn't every day a student materialised out of thin air right in front of you. Unable to bear the thought that she had gotten Neville in trouble as well, Harriet had pulled off the invisibility cloak and stepped out in front of Professor McGonagall.

"Professor... please, don't punish Neville... it's all my fault..."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	13. The Thing in the Forest

"When faced with what we fear the most, some tremble and falter, others stand up and triumph. There's no way of telling who will respond on the one side or the other because that is down to the individual's own choice. The reassuring part is that even if one does falter, they can always do better the next time around."

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

No matter how she looked at it Harriet was in the worst fix she had ever been in. While Professor McGonagall had been "appreciative" of Harriet's honesty, she still gave Harriet a detention and taken a full fifty points from Gryffindor. It also had not stopped her from giving the very same punishment to Neville.

Harriet felt disgraced. Neville had cried as they made their shameful way back to the dormitory. To make matters worse, Harriet found that Hermione and Ronnie had stayed awake to wait for her. While they had been sufficiently sympathetic, the fact remained that Harriet had lost Gryffindor House nearly one hundred points all on her own. She just wasn't able to justify to herself that the points that had Professor McGonagall taken from Neville were his fault. If Harriet had only kept out of other peoples' business, neither of them would have lost points.

She blamed herself for the detention Neville had to serve as well. Professor McGonagall had been so furious with them both she said she couldn't think of a fitting detention for them and she would have to wait for an appropriate punishment to present itself. In the end, the only good results Harriet could find from the night were that she had helped get rid of Norbert, saving Hagrid from serious trouble (and possibly his life) and that she had the good sense to hide her invisibility cloak inside her robes before she had revealed herself to Professor McGonagall.

The following morning, after Professor McGonagall had apparently written letters to their families, Neville received a bright-red envelope from his grandmother. Seamus immediately told him to run for it, which he did, successfully making it out of the Great Hall with the letter before it exploded in a ball of flames and a booming voice, magically amplified to a hundred times its usual volume.

Fortunately for Neville, being in the Entrance Hall diffused just enough of the sound so that whatever the letter was yelling about couldn't be heard clearly. Unfortunately for Harriet, seeing this further disgrace upon Neville only made her feel guiltier. This was entirely her fault.

The situation felt worse due to the cold stares she was getting from all of the other students in the house. They were well out of the lead for the house cup now, but there was one glimmer of hope. Only being a hundred points down meant that all Harriet had to do was catch the Snitch in the next match against Ravenclaw to put them back in the lead.

"It'll be alright, Harriet. It's not the end of the world," Ronnie consoled. She rubbed Harriet's shoulder soothingly while Harriet buried her face in her arms to hide her tears. "Fred and George have both lost hundreds of points for Gryffindor in their time here, and they've still got four years left, and everyone still seems to like them!"

"Have they ever lost a hundred points at once?" Harriet asked.

"Probably... this is Fred and George we're talking about..."

"Right you are, little sis," said Fred, who always seemed to materialise whenever his name was mentioned.

"You know Fred, there's only one way for us to resolve this situation," said George twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Too right you are George," Fred replied drawing his wand.

Before anyone else could do anything, before Harriet even had time to think, Fred and George both pointed their wands at Professor Snape as he walked into the hall.

" _Locomotor Mortis_!" They cried.

Professor Snape drew his wand with remarkable speed and deflected the jinxes into the wall. The entire Great Hall went silent. Professor Snape's glare was so icy Harriet felt herself recoil in fear. Not even Uncle Vernon had ever looked that angry, and if he had, he certainly had not looked that deadly. Even Fred and George seemed to shrink a little as Professor Snape strode towards them.

"Detention... nightly... until the end of term... and fifty more points from Gryffindor... each," Professor Snape snarled down at them.

Fred and George didn't say a word. Professor Snape merely turned and strode up to the staff table looking oddly. The rest of Gryffindor House, however, was beside themselves with anger. Even Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws were giving Fred and George icy stares of anger now. Harriet supposed this was because the other two houses had been anxious to see Slytherin fall, even if they weren't the ones to win the House Cup.

Harriet stared at the pair in disbelief as they sat down with incredibly pleased expressions on their faces.

"What the hell did you two do that for?!" Ronnie asked outraged.

"Harriet and Nev are just little first years, McGonagall had no right taking that many points off them and putting them in that much disgrace," Fred said with a shrug as he helped himself to porridge.

"And so the only fitting way to save them was self-sacrifice," George explained with a grin.

Harriet didn't know if she should feel gratitude or rage. On the one hand, it seemed they had successfully moved the Gryffindor scandal off of Harriet and onto them. On the other, their chances of regaining enough points to reclaim the House championship had been obliterated. For the time being, she decided on gratitude.

"You two didn't need to do that," Harriet said sheepishly. "People were bound to turn on me eventually, you know, 'famous' and all that..."

"Nah, don't say that. As we said, we just—oh dear," Fred said shrinking back a little.

"What?" asked George, turning to see what Fred was looking at. Harriet felt herself shiver as she looked too and saw Oliver Wood stomping towards them looking even angrier than Harriet even thought possible.

"You two. Outside. Now!" Wood snarled.

Harriet expected Fred and George to argue in some way. Instead, the twins looked very solemn as they got to their feet and followed Wood from the Great Hall. Slytherins jeered and applauded to thank Fred and George for ensuring their victories of the Quidditch and House Cups yet again.

Harriet buried her face in her hands. "Why are boys so stupid?!" she asked no one in particular.

"Hey!" Dean, Seamus, Marcus and Neville both blurted out at once. Harriet felt her anger growing as she sat back and glared at them all.

"What?! Except for maybe Kieran and Neville, all of you have done idiotic things this year! Duels, fights, always trying to be brave or "cool" to impress people, it's ridiculous!" The boys, perhaps realising their error, shrank back from Harriet much as Fred and George had done when encountering the enraged Wood.

Harriet got to her feet, slung her bag up over her shoulder and stormed out of the Great Hall. She ignored the predictable jeers from the Slytherins. She was vaguely aware of them taunting about her "hissy fit" as she stomped through the doorway. She didn't know where she was going. She didn't stop at the sound of feet behind her. She'd expected one of them to run after her. It was the voice that stopped her. It was a girl's voice, much older than she'd expected, deeper and more commanding.

"Dammit-all, Potter, stop!"

Harriet froze and turned to face Angelina Johnson. At first, Angelina looked stern, but her gaze softened as Harriet finally realised who it was.

"Come on, Potter, let's talk."

Harriet glowered, "What, about how I shouldn't have shouted at my friends like that and I need to be more understanding?"

Angelina furrowed her brow.

"No, I agree with you actually, boys are complete idiots. Fred and George I would say are right at the top of that scale too. But I do want to talk about them with you."

"Talk about boys you mean?"

"Yeah," Angelina said with a smirk as she put an arm around Harriet's shoulder, "consider me your new pushy older sister."

Harriet couldn't help but smile back. There was something about the confidence Angelina exuded that Harriet liked. It was the kind of self-certainty that Harriet hoped she would have someday.

"Oh gee, just what I always wanted," Harriet replied doing her best to look cheeky rather than sarcastic. Angelina laughed and ruffled Harriet's hair.

"Okay, I can't promise I'll make boys seem smarter than they've already seemed to you or anything because they're not," Angelina said frankly. "What I can say is that I can help you at least prepare yourself for how stupid they will be in the future so at least you'll know what you're going to be dealing with."

"Well, I suppose that would be helpful anyway," Harriet said rolling her eyes.

"Shut it, Potter," Angelina said smiling.

"Okay, okay, go on."

"First and foremost, any time you're dealing with boys think of the stupidest possible thing they can do in any given situation because that's probably the choice they'll make."

Harriet laughed. "Like getting into a duel just to impress a girl?"

"At the very lea—Wait, is that why your one friend did that?" Angelina asked.

Harriet nodded. "Well, that's why Dean joined in the duel; Marcus did because Malfoy called my mother a 'Mudblood'."

Angelina looked furious at this. "He what?! Well, I don't blame him for that then, even if it was still pretty stupid."

"Yeah, I wasn't that upset with him for that long, even though we almost got caught by Filch."

Angelina smiled. "That was good of you."

"Yeah, I was a lot madder at Dean for a while though."

"Why?" Angelina asked genuinely curious.

Harriet shrugged again. "I don't know; I just hated how he'd done it to impress me."

"Interesting... most girls I know would have been flattered by that," Angelina said impressed.

"Well, I'm not like most girls," Harriet said indignantly.

Angelina laughed. "Definitely not. I like that about you, Potter. You'll go far in this school; you've already got the boys' eyes, and you're already well versed in spurning them. Kudos."

"What do I do about that though?"

"Well, you already seem to have that down."

"No, I mean not having them 'like me'?" Harriet asked.

Angelina looked taken aback but soon regained her calm.

"Oh, well you'll change your mind about that, Harriet. Trust me; boys will seem more appealing as you get older, even with how stupid they are."

"Really?" Harriet asked.

"I didn't like boys much when I was your age either. They grow out of it though."

"Fred and George haven't."

"Well... Fred and George are a special case. And as crazy as they are, their hearts are still in the right place. I'll just say this, if you don't want a boy who likes to do crazy things out of bravado and daring, don't pick a Gryffindor."

Harriet laughed, "Point taken."

"Though your one friend, the one with the walking stick, what's his name?"

"You mean Kieran?"

"Yeah, him, he seems pretty level-headed for a Gryffindor, smart, not bad on the eyes, though he's young."

Harriet felt her cheeks starting to get warm. "Yeah, I-I guess so..." Harriet agreed without much conviction.

There was a sudden question in her mind she wanted to ask Angelina; a question she'd never had before, and a worry she'd never had before. But as she looked up at Angelina's smiling face, she just couldn't bring herself to ask it.

She picked another question instead, "So, what kind of boy should I like?"

Angelina laughed. "That's up to you kid, but, I suppose if you want a decent, fair and hard-working boy who'll like to please you, I'd go with a Hufflepuff. Ravenclaws seem nice at first, but the whole bookish thing kinda gets to me, personally. I always feel like they're judging me if I don't know everything like they do."

Harriet digested the information and grinned a little at the fact that Angelina had utterly spurned any mention of dating a Slytherin.

"Well, I'm going to catch up with some friends to study. Take some time and cool down, and honestly, if you ever have a question or anything, just ask, okay?"

"Okay, deal," Harriet replied with a smile.

Angelina ruffled Harriet's hair again before she turned and strode off down the hall. Harriet watched her for a few minutes before she sighed and leaned back against the wall. Harriet's talk with Angelina had given her far more to think about than Angelina had probably intended.

Harriet wandered the hall a little more until she came to a large, open window overlooking the grounds. She climbed up in the sill and looked out. Hagrid was walking back to his hut; his head hung low. Harriet was sure that Hagrid felt even more awful than she did, but Harriet still couldn't even blame him for the situation she was in. And yet, though she knew she had successfully saved Hagrid from being in deep trouble, she still made a solemn vow to never meddle in any situation that didn't directly involve her again.

## * * * *

Things stayed awkward between Harriet and her friends longer than she'd hoped. Most of them barely spoke to her all week. Most of them seemed like they were waiting for her to blow up again. Harriet would have minded more, but the amounts of revision and homework, her newfound unwillingness to deal with other people's problems, and Quidditch practice meant that she had very little time to deal with the issue.

Kieran was released from the hospital wing at the end of the week. It turned out Norbert's bite had been mildly venomous after all, but Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori had managed to find a satisfactory antidote, and it seemed had not asked any questions about how exactly he had managed to get bitten by a baby dragon. Even though Kieran having to be hospitalised made her feel the worst of all, he seemed the most forgiving. He would at least talk to her. However, she usually found herself hanging out with only Ronnie and Hermione. Parvati and Lavender were polite to her, but Harriet could tell they had also disapproved of her outburst.

Harriet found she didn't care that much because the thing that was on her mind the most was another worry she didn't know how to share with any of them. In a few weeks' time, she would be going back to Privet Drive for the summer. The Dursleys were liable to hate her more than ever now that she had spent a year at Hogwarts.

To make things worse Fred and George were placed on "probation" by Wood. They were forbidden from any pranks of any kind for the rest of the year. If they put a single toe out of line Wood would throw them off the team. No one was more surprised than Ronnie to see Fred and George forced to behave themselves. Their love of Quidditch seemed to be the one thing that could keep them in line. Ronnie seemed particularly gleeful as she said she would use this knowledge blackmail Fred and George with by threatening to tell their mother should they ever tease her again.

Finally, the week before finals were to start; two things happened that drove Privet Drive and her troubles with her friends out of her mind completely. The first occurred when she was walking alone down a corridor the Friday before finals. She was just passing Quirrell's office when she heard the distinct sound of sobbing. Harriet paused and listened to the door in spite of herself.

"No, no please my lord, not again... anything but that... I can't again, no not again... please?"

Harriet felt her entire body freeze. Who was Quirrell talking to? Was it Professor Snape? She didn't hear anyone respond to Quirrell over his loud sobs as she pressed her ear tighter against the door.

"Alright, alright!" Quirrell sobbed louder, "I'll do it!"

Harriet barely had time to jump out of the way as the door was flung open. Quirrell didn't seem to see her as he strode rapidly from the room. Harriet let out a sigh of relief before she peered into the room. The door at the back of the room stood wide open. Harriet felt certain that Professor Snape must have just left through it.

Harriet felt her two major impulses coming into sharp conflict with one another. One wanted to honour her commitment to not meddling in other peoples' problems. The other had to know if it was Professor Snape that had just snuck out through the back door. Harriet closed her eyes. She gathered up her determination before she finally stepped into the room. She snuck as quietly as she could walking on the rugs to soften her footsteps as she approached the back door.

She reached the door and found herself met with a surprise. There was no exit from the room. It was nothing more than Quirrell's bedroom. It was surprisingly bare as though Quirrell didn't own anything. Or maybe it was more like he had never unpacked his possessions, as though he didn't plan on staying at Hogwarts. He must be a part of the conspiracy Harriet thought to herself as she snuck back towards the corridor and peeked out hoping Quirrell wasn't returning.

If Professor Snape had recruited Quirrell during the school year to steal the Stone, Quirrell would have had more personal possessions in his room, wouldn't he? This had to be a clue, Harriet thought, but she didn't know what to make of it. The only thing Harriet knew for sure was that she had to talk to Hermione about it as soon as possible. Fortunately, Harriet found her (predictably) in the library studying with Ronnie.

"Well, that's different... what do you think he was being told to 'do'?" Ronnie asked.

"I don't know, Quirrell was... different... he was sobbing, but he wasn't stuttering like he usually does... it was weird."

"Well, on the one hand, it sounds like he finally gave in on something, but on the other, we have no idea what it is," Hermione reasoned.

"Do you think he agreed to tell Snape the way past Fluffy?"

Harriet shrugged. "We never really knew for sure that Quirrell did know the way past Fluffy. Maybe he's finally agreed to go find out how?"

"That sounds a little more likely. I wonder what he meant by 'not again'?" Hermione asked.

"I know... It's weird; it sounds like it's something terrible that Quirrell's been forced to do before. But, what?"

"We have to go to Professor Dumbledore!" Hermione hissed as Madame Pince strode past.

"No, we can't go to Professor Dumbledore," Harriet moaned.

"Why not?" Ronnie asked.

"Well, for one thing, we have no actual proof. And it's no secret that Gryffindor students all hate him. He'll think we're just making it up to get Professor Snape in trouble," Harriet explained.

"So, what are we going to do?" Hermione asked morosely.

Harriet sighed. She'd hoped Hermione would have an answer, but she looked too afraid to do anything that would get them in trouble.

"I don't know either..."

"Does it mean we'll go snooping more!?" Ronnie asked wide-eyed with excitement.

Harriet gave her friend an affectionate though sad smile. "No, I promised myself not to meddle in anything that's not directly related to me. I don't want Professor Snape to get the Stone, but I don't want to be expelled either."

"True. Well, we'll just have to hope then, won't we? I don't think Snape will try anything with this many students here. It'd make it a lot harder to do without being seen, so he'll probably wait until after term is over," Hermione reasoned.

"Good point," Harriet agreed. "Well, that does make it not our problem then doesn't it?"

Grimly satisfied with that theory they made their way down to dinner.

The following morning at breakfast, Harriet's mood was not helped by Professor McGonagall swooping down on her and Neville to hand them notes. The notes informed them that they were to meet with Filch at eleven-o-clock that night to finally serve their detentions.

Harriet wondered why their detentions were so late. If their crime was being out after hours what was the point of making them serve a detention that was also after hours? However, the sour look on Professor McGonagall's face dissuaded her from voicing her question out loud.

The looks on the faces of her Gryffindor friends when she sat back down were sufficiently sympathetic to make Harriet feel it was finally time to stop being so grumpy to them. Harriet opened her mouth to apologise, but Kieran held up a hand to stop her.

"No, no more apologising. You were right to be so miffed at us all... Well us guys I mean. Being the only one of all of us who knew about Norbert to get in trouble is more than lame..."

Marcus chimed in. "We all wanted to go turn ourselves in too, but it would mean—"

"Ratting out Hagrid too... yeah..." Harriet said cutting him off. "Yeah detention and fifty points lost is tame when you consider what would have happened to him..."

"It would... Azkaban is the most horrible place in the world. I don't know how it's even legal..." Kieran muttered, looking grim.

"What's Azkaban?" Harriet asked.

A small wave of shudders went around the table from Ronnie, Kieran, Neville, Lavender and Parvati. Even Hermione looked a little troubled.

"It's the Ministry's prison on an island far out at sea, guarded by Dementors," Ronnie explained.

"What are Dementors?"

"Dark creatures; really tall, wear dark black cloaks and fly... they feed on happiness, and they can even eat your soul," Parvati added.

"Most of the prisoners in Azkaban go mad or die," Kieran muttered solemnly.

"They die?!" Marcus asked shocked. "But what if someone's sent there who's innocent?"

The best answer any of the others could give was from Lavender, who shrugged. Harriet resolved on the spot to never, ever break a wizarding law.

They looked at each other and rose as one, filing out of the Great Hall. Scott rose to join them, and Harriet was surprised to see him get one or two dirty looks from other students at his table. Harriet pulled him back from the others.

"What'd you do?" Harriet asked him under her breath indicating his table with a nod.

Scott looked over his shoulder at the other Ravenclaws. Scott chuckled, "They're annoyed with me for spending so much time with Gryffindors. They think I'm not showing proper 'house pride'."

"That's awful!" Harriet declared.

Scott waved a hand dismissively. "Nah, Kieran's my best mate, I don't care what house he's in."

"Well, maybe we could come and hang with your Ravenclaw friends more too?" Harriet suggested. "Could finally help you break the ice with Atsuko maybe," She teased with a wink.

"Oh shut up," Scott muttered, his face going red. Harriet giggled though she sighed as she felt the piece of parchment Professor McGonagall had given her in her pocket. She took it out and looked at it dismally. To her surprise, there was something else written on the backside of the piece of parchment she hadn't noticed before. It was the same loopy handwriting that had been on the note that had come with the invisibility cloak.

 

_Please take your cloak with you tonight. There are defences in place in the forest, but better safe than sorry._

 

Harriet stopped dead in her tracks.

Scott looked around at her, "Harriet, everything alright?"

"Y-yeah," Harriet said as she quickly stuffed the note into her pocket. "I just had lost track of time and thought my detention was sooner is all."

"Oh, okay then," Scott said looking sheepish. Harriet knew he must have felt guilty that he hadn't gotten caught as well. It somehow made Harriet smile, as it was such a Gryffindor-ish thing for him to feel, she reminded herself thinking back to her talk with Angelina. And she reminded herself that maybe, just maybe, Angelina was right, and boys weren't so bad after all.

## * * * *

At eleven-o-clock Harriet found herself walking side by side with Neville down to the front door of the school. As the note had told her, she had the invisibility cloak hidden in her robes under her arms which were wrapped around her chest to hide the bulge. Filch was there waiting for them and looking positively pleased with his life.

At first, Harriet was surprised to see Draco standing there until she remembered that Draco had been given a detention too. Well, Harriet thought as they caught up to the other two, at least if I have to do something miserable tonight Draco will have to do it too.

"Come on, come on," Filch called as they got nearer. "We don't have all night."

Neither Harriet nor Neville said a word. Filch turned, leading them out into the grounds, lighting his oil lamp as he took them in the direction of the greenhouses and Hagrid's hut. Maybe they had to pick some plants for Professor Sprout that could only be picked at night time?

Filch kept muttering dark hints to them about what he hoped would happen to them in their detention and what he wished he could do to them himself. His wistful dream of being able to hang them up by their ankles in the dungeons made Harriet both scared and disgusted.

It only took a few moments for Harriet to see Hagrid looming above them in the lamplight. Ominously, she saw Hagrid had his giant crossbow cradled in his arms.

"That you there, Filch? What kept yeh? Yer late."

Filch seemed to ignore Hagrid's chiding and grinned darkly at the three students.

"Don't be too friendly with them now, Hagrid, this is a punishment after all," Filch said, grinning maliciously. "You are takin' them into the forest..."

Harriet felt the colour draining from her face. The forest? They were going into the woods? But it was forbidden, wasn't it? It was called the "Forbidden Forest" after all and Professor Dumbledore had said their very first day they weren't allowed to go in.

"Oh that's why you're late, is it? Trying ter scare them? Big man, you are frightenin' kids, Filch. You must be so proud of yourself. Now get outer here, you've done your bit, now it's down to me."

Filch glared at Hagrid before he finally started shuffling back to the school muttering under his breath. On the one hand, Harriet felt grateful to Hagrid for telling Filch off like that. On the other, she was very nervous about what they were about to do.

"Alright, there's a lot I need ter get straight with yeh three before we start."

"I'm not going into that forest!" Malfoy spluttered. Somehow, the fear that Harriet heard in his voice made her feel braver.

"Scared of the dark, Malfoy?" Harriet taunted.

"Maybe I'm not as mad as you are Potter, there are dangerous things in there, werewolves!"

"Nah there's no werewolves in here," Hagrid said. "But plenty'll take a right good-sized chunk outta yeh."

Something in the tone of Hagrid's voice told Harriet that this was a legitimate warning, not a taunt to frighten them as Filch had done.

"I am not going in there, and that is final!" Malfoy declared, a little more boldly.

"You will if ye want to stay here at Hogwarts," Hagrid growled back.

"If my father knew—"

"If yer father knew you'd been caught sneakin' around in the middle of the night, you mean?"

Malfoy fell silent and shot a glare at Harriet. Apparently, he'd decided to blame her for his predicament.

"No one told you to sneak around spying Malfoy... should have just minded your own business," Harriet snapped back, feeling rather proud of herself.

"Alright, alright, we need to get to work now. What we're doing tonight is looking for an injured unicorn. There's a unicorn in there that's been hurt badly by summat, and this isn't the first time it's happened this year, neither. Found one dead not long ago, and given how badly this one seems to have been hurt, I have a sad suspicion we're about to find another one... but no reason not ter try and save it if we can."

"I'm going with the dog!" Malfoy declared, eyeing Fang's sizeable mouth and teeth somewhat approvingly.

"Fair enough, but just fair warning, he's a coward."

Malfoy blanched a little at this but said no more as Hagrid turned and headed off into the forest. Harriet swallowed and started following. She heard Neville, Malfoy and Fang following. Only a few yards into the wood, Hagrid paused and knelt with his lantern.

"See that there, that shiny stuff? That's unicorn blood. That's what yer need to be lookin' for when we're out here. We're gonna split into two groups. Harriet, yer with me. Neville, Malfoy, you two go with Fang. Nothin'll hurt you in this forest if you're with Fang or me."

"W-what about werewolves?" Malfoy asked.

"I told yeh; there aren't no werewolves in this forest. Werewolves are humans with a terrible disease, not animals. You've probably already met one or two in yer life and never even known it. Now, you two and Fang head down that path there," Hagrid said.

He pointed Neville and Malfoy down a path handing them the lantern. "Harriet and I'll go this way. If you run inter any trouble, shoot red sparks up in the air. Come on everyone, take out yer wands and try it now."

The three students pulled out their wands and did as told.

"Good, good. Now keep an eye out for the blood. It's all over the place; the poor thing must have been staggering around since last night at least."

Hagrid's statement triggered a sudden thought in Harriet's mind. She remembered overhearing Quirrell the day before. Had Professor Snape been forcing Quirrell to attack unicorns? And if so, why? Harriet remembered using powdered unicorn hair in potions class. Given how upset Hagrid was about this attack, however, Harriet was guessing this wasn't about something as simple as needing supplies for Potions class. But as Harriet knew Hagrid still trusted Professor Snape, so she didn't voice her questions out loud.

"Alright, everyone knows the plan? Good, again, keep to the path, keep an eye out for the blood and remember red sparks if yeh get in trouble. Right, let's go."

Hagrid started down the path, and Harriet followed close behind him. She glanced over her shoulder. Neville's face was scrunched into a grimace as he followed an equally scared and disgruntled Malfoy down the other path. Even though she had Hagrid with her Harriet wished they also had the lantern.

"S-so...?" Harriet stuttered, "what could hurt a unicorn in here?"

"Nothin' I know of... which tells me that there's summat in here that doesn't belong."

Harriet bit her lip. For someone so large she couldn't help but notice how quickly Hagrid moved through the trees in the dark. He could move so quietly, Harriet could hear her footsteps over his as they made their way down the path.

"What would be able to hurt one then?" Harriet asked.

Hagrid shrugged. "Notta clue... unicorns are powerfully magical creatures and some of the fastest creatures on land, after Areions I suppose. Blimey I'd like to see a herd of them around, but they don't like forests much, prefer open plains, and well that's not summat we have a lot of here at Hogwa—GET BEHIND ME!"

Hagrid reached down and in a single motion lifted Harriet by the back of her robe and set her down behind him bringing his hand back to grab an arrow. He aimed his crossbow at the bushes ahead of them, and finally, Harriet heard a quiet slithering sound, like a cloak being dragged over leaves.

Harriet peered around Hagrid's side and clutched the back of his shirt tight in her hands. However, by the time she got a bead on where the sound was coming from it faded away into the forest, and she heard no more. Hagrid sighed and lowered his crossbow.

"I knew it... there's summat in here that shouldn't... never heard nothin' like that in the forest before... right, stay right by my side, Harriet, and keep your eyes peeled. If we didn't just hear what it was that's been attacking the unicorns then I'm a flobberworm," Hagrid said. He started stalking forward, crossbow at the ready.

Harriet swallowed. It had sounded sinister, snake-like and purposeful. Whatever it was had to have been close enough to have heard Harriet and Hagrid, but it had kept slithering past them as if it was utterly unafraid of them. And something that would be unafraid of Hagrid would have to be pretty frightening.

Harriet jumped as another noise came from the bushes ahead of them, but it was nothing like the sound they'd heard earlier. Hagrid still stopped and aimed his crossbow at the sound.

"Who goes there?" Hagrid shouted, "Show yourself!"

The thing that revealed itself was almost more than Harriet could take. It first looked to be a very tall man, nearly as tall as Hagrid, until it stepped entirely out of the foliage. Where the hips and legs would be on a regular human Harriet saw the body of a chestnut horse. It was a real, live centaur.

The centaur's face seemed naturally sorrowful, with red hair and a neatly trimmed beard.

"Good evening, Hagrid," the centaur said in baritone. "Were you going to shoot me?"

"Oh, it's you Ronan, sorry about that, can't be too careful tonight. There's summat bad in the forest, anyway, how are yeh?"

"As well as can be expected," Ronan said vaguely before turning his eyes down on Harriet.

"Oh, and this here's Harriet Potter," Hagrid said. "Harriet, this here's Ronan, he's the current leader of his herd."

"H-Hello," Harriet said quietly.

"Good evening, Harriet Potter. Even amongst centaurs, your name is known..." Ronan explained matter-of-factly.

Harriet noticed that the one thing Ronan hadn't done was look at her scar. Instead, Ronan looked from Harriet, through a hole in the trees, up to the stars.

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan said.

"Er, right, anyway Ronan, I wanted to ask, have you seen anything strange in the forest lately, that might not belong, cuz there's a unicorn that's been hurt in here, and it's not the first..."

Ronan kept looking at the sky and gave a long, mournful sigh. "Yes, always the innocent are the first to suffer... as it has always been..."

"Er, yeah, but have you seen anything? Anything out of the ordinary?"

"Nought but Mars... so bright... so unusually bright..." Ronan said with disbelief.

"Right, but I meant anything unusual in the forest..."

Ronan finally pulled his gaze away from the stars to look Hagrid in the eye.

"The forest holds many secrets, Hagrid, as you know..."

Hagrid opened his mouth to respond. He looked irritated when a second centaur popped out of the trees, taking Harriet entirely off guard. This one had jet-black hair and looked wilder than Ronan.

"Oh, hello there Bane, how are yeh?"

"Good evening Hagrid, are you well?"

"Oh well enough, Bane, well enough. Listen, I was just asking Ronan, have—"

"Mars is bright..." Bane said, ignoring Hagrid as he looked up with Ronan. "It may well happen tonight."

"Yes... tonight..." Ronan said in agreement.

"Er, right... well, we'll be off then," Hagrid said. He sounded irritated.

Harriet felt more nervous than ever. She wanted to know just what was going to happen tonight.

"Ruddy centaurs..." Hagrid muttered under his breath to Harriet as he led her further into the forest. "Never try and get a straight answer outta one, nothin' matters to them but stars and prophecies..."

"Are there many of them in here?" Harriet asked.

"Oh, there's a pretty good sized herd in here, mostly been driven out of their homelands over the years, not many places for them to live anymore, kinda like the giants. They're friendly enough though and always turn up if I want a word."

Harriet looked back over her shoulder at the clearing the centaurs had been in when a flash of red made her jump. Red sparks had just shot into the air from the direction Neville and Malfoy had gone.

"Hagrid! Red sparks!" Harriet shouted. Hagrid swore under his breath and again Harriet up, this time putting her on his shoulder as he ran off towards the sparks. Harriet clung hard to Hagrid's shirt as he ran, ducking branches.

When they arrived, it took very little time to work out what had happened. Apparently, Malfoy had gotten enough of his wits back to think it would be amusing to sneak up behind Neville and grab him. Neville panicked and shot his sparks into the air. Hagrid was furious, and in very short order, Harriet found herself walking through the forest with Fang and her least favourite person at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy. Hagrid had taken Neville with him, as he said it would be harder for Malfoy to scare Harriet, which she had to admit was probably correct.

The two kept walking down the path for nearly a half an hour, not saying a single word to each other. Harriet was starting to have a hard time following the way.

"So... Potter..." Malfoy finally said, as though getting tired of the silence.

"What?" Harriet asked. She'd been rather enjoying Malfoy not talking.

"Nothing..." Malfoy muttered.

Part of Harriet wanted to press him on what it was, but she spotted a much more substantial spot of unicorn blood that made her forget about it altogether.

"Look!" Harriet hissed. There was another large spot of bright silver blood which lead to a third and then a fourth. They followed when finally they reached a clearing.

There was no mistaking the form of the dead unicorn. Even in death, it seemed to glow with its magic. The pure white coat gleamed, its legs were splayed in all directions, and its mouth was open its eyes glazed and blank. There was a massive gash in its side from which the silver blood still shimmered. It was the saddest sight Harriet had ever seen.

Before Harriet could take another step, however, the slithering sound returned. This time Harriet saw the creature that was making it. It was a cloaked figure with a hood pulled over its head. The most horrible part was the way it moved on all fours its limbs seeming to bend in the wrong direction, as though it was someone walking on their hands and feet with their stomach in the air, or perhaps like a horrible, giant spider or crab.

Harriet found herself frozen as she watched the figure move towards the unicorn. It reached the fallen animal, lowered its head to the wound and started lapping up the blood.

Malfoy screamed. He and Fang bolted and left Harriet still frozen where she stood. She looked at the blood drinking monster as it turned to look at her. Harriet could only see the mouth under the shadow of the hood the lips shining with silver unicorn blood. Harriet finally managed to take a step backwards but tripped on a root.

The figure began to move towards her. Harriet rolled over and pushed herself up. She kicked hard to drive herself into a run. As she did, she became aware of the lump on her chest under her robes. Harriet reached into her robes and drew out the invisibility cloak. She ducked around a tree and threw the cloak over herself just in time to see the hooded figure go running past her.

The creature, or whatever it was, smelled horrible; like a mixture of garlic and a dead squirrel that Harriet had once found when cleaning the garden back in Privet Drive. The figure had stopped when it no longer saw Harriet. It was crawling around the tree Harriet was pressed up against and almost sounded like it was sniffing as though it was trying to smell her. Harriet closed her eyes when the sound of hooves overcame her hearing and a large shadow passed by her as something galloped into the clearing. The newcomer reared up on its hind legs and kicked out at the hooded beast, which finally fled.

Harriet looked up to see that the newcomer was another centaur. This one looked much younger than Bane and Ronan had. He had a palomino body and white-blond hair and no beard. He turned and looked around, his forehead furrowed thoughtfully.

"Harriet Potter... are you here? Are you unhurt?" he asked. Harriet blinked in amazement that the new centaur both knew who she was and seemed to know she was still there. Harriet took a step away from the tree and pulled off her cloak. He turned to look at her, and Harriet who saw his eyes were a deep, piercing blue that reminded her of Professor Dumbledore's.

"Harriet Potter, I must return you to Hagrid, you aren't safe here," the centaur said trotting up to her quickly and lowered himself down onto his front knees. "Climb on; it'll be faster that way."

Harriet felt herself blush as she climbed on and wrapped her arms tight around his waist as he stood back to his full height.

"My name is Firenze," he said as he looked over his shoulder at her. Harriet was about to respond when the sound of more galloping hooves made them both turn. It was Ronan and Bane. On seeing them, Bane looked furious, stamping the ground.

"Firenze! What is the meaning of this?! A human on your back, you are shameless! You mule! You mere donkey!" Bane roared with anger. Ronan put out a hand to try to calm Bane.

"Bane, this is Harriet Potter, as I know you know, I must get her from this forest as quickly as possible, or all will be lost!" Firenze shouted back. He sounded just as angry as Bane, but his voice was still softer, more insistent than furious.

"All will be lost?!" Bane snorted. "What will be lost that has not been foretold?! We are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens Firenze, as you have been taught all your life! Or are you too blind to have seen what the planets have warned?"

Firenze shifted angrily.

"Yes I have seen what the planets have foretold, Bane, but I also see the dead unicorn in that clearing, and I see why it was killed with my own eyes. On my back, I see the one hope we have at stopping such evils from taking place! I set myself against such an evil Bane, and I will do so with the help of humans if I have to!" Firenze shouted back.

Bane snorted and looked as though he was about to charge when Ronan stepped between them.

"That is enough, Bane," Ronan said in his dark voice, though it was somehow more commanding and Bane looked as though he backed down a little. "I am sure Firenze thought he was acting for the best."

"‘For the best’?! We are not concerned with ‘for the best’!" Bane roared kicking his back legs.

"I said that is enough, Bane!" Ronan commanded more. He turned to Firenze and Harriet. "Firenze, I will permit you to carry the Potter girl from the forest in this manner in the interest of speed. But you are walking a fine line on our laws, and I shall not permit such behaviour again. Understood?"

Firenze pawed the ground still clearly agitated.

"Understood," Firenze muttered and spun with alarming speed, nearly throwing Harriet off as he began galloping away from the other two. Harriet felt like she had a million questions.

"Wh-what was that thing back there...? And why's Bane so angry...? Besides you giving me a ride I mean...?"

Firenze didn't answer instead opting to brush tree limbs aside, so they didn't hit Harriet in the face. It took about five minutes before Firenze finally responded.

"Harriet Potter... do you know the properties of unicorn blood?"

"N-no... I know we've used ground up horn in potions and people use the tail hairs in wands..."

"There is no higher evil in this world than killing a unicorn," Firenze said with a burning anger clenching his hands into fists. "In doing so, you have slain something pure and innocent and good... but the blood of a unicorn will sustain you, give you life even if you are on the brink of death... but in doing so... you shall be forever cursed to live only a half-life..."

Harriet gaped in shock.

"But who would be that desperate...? Wouldn't dying be better if you were going to be cursed forever?"

"It would be... unless you only needed to remain alive long enough to drink something else... that would truly restore you to life... do you know what is being stored at Hogwarts at this very moment?"

"The Philosopher's Stone!" Harriet hissed, her eyes wide with realisation. "Wait, but how do you know about it?" she asked.

"Professor Dumbledore informed the centaurs of its presence... asking us to keep an eye out in the forest for intruders who may be trying to steal it... as you noticed... some did not heed this request..." Firenze said bitterly.

"So, who would do something so desperate?"

"You of all people should know who would be desperate enough to drink unicorn blood, Harriet Potter..."

Harriet gasped. "Not, Voldemort?"

"Harriet, that you?" Hagrid panted as he ran down the path towards them. Firenze stopped and kneeled again letting Harriet off.

"Yes Hagrid, it's me, the unicorn's dead... it's back there," Harriet explained, pointing back towards the clearing. Hagrid whimpered in despair and hurried off through the underbrush.

"I shall leave you now, Harriet Potter, you are safe," Firenze said. "The planets have been misinterpreted before, even by my kind... learned as we are in their movements... I hope such has happened again... good luck, Harriet Potter."

Harriet shivered as Firenze turned and trotted back off into the darkness.

When Harriet returned Hermione and Ronnie were both waiting. They snuck back downstairs to discuss all that had happened in secret.

"So Malfoy just fled?!" Ronnie demanded. Harriet and Hermione shushed her.

"What?" Ronnie hissed. "The little coward... I'd love to kick him in the shin with my football cleats on..."

"It's fine Ronnie, and I'm fine, that doesn't matter anymore, it was Voldemort... the thing in the hood, I saw Voldemort in the forest tonight... Professor Snape and Quirrell are trying to steal the stone for him, to help him return to power!" Harriet whispered as they took seats by the fireplace.

"Please stop saying the name," Ronnie pleaded.

"One of the centaurs, named Firenze, saved me from him but Bane, I guess, thinks Voldemort was supposed to kill me, that the planets or something told it. So now, I just have to wait for Professors Snape and Quirrell to steal the Stone and Voldemort to come finish me off."

"Stop saying his name!" Ronnie demanded.

Hermione swallowed. "Harriet, d-don't say things like that. Everyone knows Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who is afraid of. With Dumbledore here, Voldemort can't touch you. If he has to hide in the forest and drink unicorn blood, he must be weak indeed. I agree with Firenze; I think the centaurs are wrong. Professor McGonagall talked about fortune-telling, which is what it sounds like they do. She said it was a very imprecise type of magic."

Harriet nodded but didn't feel wholly reassured. As she got ready for bed, she set her invisibility cloak on her bedside table. A sudden suspicion about who had given her the cloak sprang to her mind. Firenze said that Dumbledore had warned the centaurs something might be lurking in the forest and that not all of the centaurs had heeded the warning. And the note had said there were "defences in place in the forest, but better to the safe than sorry."

As she slid under the covers, Harriet realised that she would probably never know for sure who had given her the cloak. But, as she thought about it, she still really, really hoped she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA): and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	14. The Trap-door and the Trials

“While it is always best to believe in one's self, a little help from others can be a great blessing."*

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Despite Hermione's reassuring words about Professor Dumbledore being enough to keep Voldemort away and that Harriet shouldn't heed what the centaurs in the forest had been hinting, Harriet was a complete wreck by the end of exams.

It wasn't the exams themselves (Harriet found them a good distraction) or even Harriet's constant fear that a fully restored Voldemort was going to come bursting through the front door of the castle at any moment. Harriet's scar had started hurting again, and the nightmares had returned.

The nightmares were perhaps the worst part. Instead of just her parents disappearing into bursts of green light, or giant red eyes with slits for pupils and a high, cold voice telling her to join Slytherin and give in to the Dark Arts; they now had a black, hooded figure dribbling silver blood from its mouth and crawling rapidly towards her on backwards limbs.

Harriet supposed she wouldn't have minded the nightmares so much if she didn't so often wake up screaming at the end of them. It had been fine when they were happening during the Christmas holidays, and the only other person had been Ronnie, but now she always woke all four of her friends.

Fortunately, after three nights of this Ronnie swallowed her pride and again agreed to wait until the others were asleep and sneak over to Harriet's bed to hold her until Harriet fell asleep. Just like during the Christmas holidays, this seemed to make both the pains and the nightmares go away, and Harriet enjoyed her first night's sleep in days.

Their final exam would be History of Magic, and Harriet knew she would be quite glad to get it behind her. She had never managed to grasp Hermione's strange ability to avoid the sleep-inducing effect of Professor Binns' voice entirely and knew it was the exam for which she was the least prepared.

The rest of the exams had been reasonably interesting. There were written and practical exams for most of the classes. Harriet found the practical exams the most fun. In Charms, they had to make a pineapple tap-dance, while in Transfiguration they had to turn a mouse into a snuff-box. Harriet had done rather well in both, though Professor McGonagall was quick to point out how the top of Harriet's snuff-box still had fur. Part of Harriet wanted to try and argue it was just velvet, but she knew Professor McGonagall wouldn't buy it.

The two exams that gave her the most to think about were Potions and Defence Against the Dark Arts. Even though she and her friends suspected Professor Snape of trying to steal the Philosopher's Stone for Lord Voldemort, Harriet couldn't help but feel her intuition troubling her. Either Professor Snape was a better actor than Professor Quirrell, or he was genuinely much more interested in giving his final exam.

Most of the students just thought it was Professor Quirrell being too afraid to assign a challenging exam, but as Harriet took the Defence Against the Dark Arts exam, she couldn't help but feel he had not put much effort into making it. They merely had to perform the Full-Body Bind Jinx on a partner and write a foot long essay (Hermione managed three) about possible defensive applications of the spell.

Harriet didn't know why, but she was sure it had been Voldemort that had given Quirrell the order to attack the unicorns. Quirrell's nearly empty bedroom and the way Quirrell was handling the final examinations for his classes made her feel more unsure of their previous assumptions than ever.

Harriet's doubt lingered when it came to Professor Snape's guilt. She regularly revisited the scene she had witnessed on the edge of the Forbidden Forest after the second Quidditch. What if she hadn't seen what she thought she saw? What if, in fact, Professor Snape hadn't been pushing Professor Quirrell to get past Fluffy? What if Professor Snape was, in fact, on to Professor Quirrell?

Knowing how her two closest friends felt about Professor Snape and sympathetic her friends felt toward Professor Quirrell, Harriet decided to confide in the two people she knew would at least hear her out with open minds.

“Well, when you put it that way..." Scott muttered thinking hard about Harriet's new theory in regards to Professor Snape, Quirrell and Voldemort.

“Aye... that is certainly a new way of looking at things," Kieran added with a nod of approval.

They were sitting under their usual tree down by the lake. Given the beautiful June weather, almost the entire castle was outside except for Hermione who was in the library and Ronnie who was a dozen or so yards away learning more football rules and game strategy with Dean and Marcus.

“Have you talked to Hermione or Ronnie about this?" Scott asked.

His question took Harriet off guard. "I, well, no..." Harriet admitted feeling slightly ashamed of herself. "I know I'm supposed to trust my friends and all that, but you guys know how those two think about Professor Snape, they're utterly convinced he's bad after what Hermione saw at the first Quidditch match."

Scott furrowed his brow and chewed the end of an unused quill. “True," he muttered, “though I still wouldn't mind picking Hermione's brain over it..."

Harriet couldn't help but smile. “I'm sure Hermione would appreciate knowing that."

Kieran and Scott laughed.

“Well, I will admit that all the evidence I have against Professor Snape is just what other people have told me, it hasn't been anything I've seen meself," Kieran admitted. “So I suppose I have to take everyone at their word, but you do make a valid point."

“Yeah, I mean, as full of himself as Snape is, I can't see him forcing Quirrell to call him ‘my lord'... But if Quirrell knew he was between a rock and a hard place with You-Know-Who on one side, and Professor Snape on the other, I can see why he'd be looking slightly sickly these days," Scott reasoned.

“Aye, I've noticed that as well," Kieran agreed. “Though Snape looks as lively as he possibly could."

“Yeah, you know, I think you're on to something, Harriet," Scott said looking impressed.

Harriet blushed, “Thanks."

“Don't mention it, love," Kieran said.

“Now the only question is: do we go to Dumbledore?" Scott asked.

“No, we still don't have any real evidence," Harriet replied.

Kieran agreed. "Aye, but we have enough to get him to look into it, I think."

“Maybe," Harriet muttered. She didn't know where her scepticism was coming from, but it was overpowering. She looked up at the towering castle, and then over at the giant forest and couldn't help but feel very, very small. I'm just an eleven-year-old kid, how am I supposed to do anything about all of this?

“Well, we only have one exam left now," Kieran said in a soothing tone. “We'll just get History of Magic out of the way then we can worry about what to do about Professor Quirrell and Snape and You-Know-Who, alright?"

Harriet agreed and felt relieved. Kieran was right, just focus on the final exam and then they would have a whole week in which to discuss nothing but how to deal with the situation.

She thanked both of the boys with hugs and quickly ran off to the library to join Hermione for more studying. While she wasn't able to resist the sleep-inducing effects of Professor Binns' wheezy voice, she did want to do as well as she could in the exam and knew Hermione was the one who would be able to help her do well.

## * * * *

The entire room broke into cheers as the end of the History of Magic exam was finally called. Harriet drew a rather disapproving look from Hermione as she threw her notes up into the air with everyone else but she didn't care. The exams were over. Now she could focus on what she knew mattered the most, trying to stop Quirrell and Voldemort.

“Thank you so much for the help studying Hermione; I think I did pretty well," Harriet muttered as they filed out of the room.

“Oh, you're welcome," Hermione replied her expression a mixture of pride and sheepishness. “Though, you wouldn't have needed help if you'd just paid attention."

“I do try!" Harriet retorted feeling a little wounded. “I just can't fight off the effect of his voice, the way he just goes onnnn and onnn and onnnn and—"

Hermione rolled her eyes and hugged Harriet around the shoulders, “Oh hush, I was just kidding you."

Harriet laughed. They both heard Ronnie muttering behind them.

“Would have been nice if someone had invited me to the studying."

Harriet grimaced a little but turned and gave Ronnie an ‘I'm giving you one whether you like it or not' hug.

“Oh get over yourself," Marcus teased. “Like you really would have given up playing football to go study in the library."

Ronnie laughed, “Okay, you got me there."

Ronnie hugged Harriet back, and they all made their way out onto the grounds. It was even hotter today than it was the day before, and they all quickly stripped off their robes, jumpers and ties. Harriet and Ronnie both stopped to strip off their shoes and knee-high socks as well running headlong towards the lake to dip their feet in again.

Hermione, of course, refrained, still too afraid of the giant squid to get near the water and opted to sit back with Kieran, Marcus and Scott who had just joined them. Parvati, Lavender, Dean and Seamus were nearby but in a little cluster of their own, and Harriet didn't know where Neville could have gotten off to.

Harriet sighed in relief from the heat as the freshwater lapped over her bare feet. She turned to look back at the others to invite them down too when it happened again. A stabbing pain hit her scar that caused her to roll over onto her back and clap her hands to her forehead in pain.

“Harriet!" she barely heard several voices exclaim and felt hands lifting her back into a sitting position. The pain continued to stab at her forehead, and she ended up falling back into someone's arms, panting in exhaustion.

“Harriet, are you alright?" she heard a voice ask. Harriet slowly worked her eyes open and realised she was lying back in Kieran's arms. She sat up rapidly.

“I-I'm... no... it was my scar... it just hurt worse than ever that time..." Harriet finally said, shivering despite the heat.

“Should we take her to Madame Pomfrey?" she heard Hermione ask timidly.

“I'm not sick," Harriet said, unable to avoid sounding snippy. “It's more like it's a warning. Something bad is about to happen."

Her friends didn't respond right away.

“Harriet, you don't need to worry so much. The Stone's safe, there's no proof Snape or Quirrell have found out how to get past Fluffy," Hermione said trying to sound calm and reasonable.

“And it's going to stay that way; you know Hagrid would never let Dumbledore down," Ronnie chimed in.

“Well, I'm not sure he would have approved too much of Norbert, but..." Scott muttered.

At Scott's words, a light flicked on in Harriet's head. Of course, how could she have not seen it before!

“Hagrid!" she declared trying to get to her feet.

“Uh, wh-what about Hagrid?" Ronnie asked.

“Hagrid! Quirrell, Voldemort, we have to go talk to Hagrid!"

“Maybe we should take her up to the hospital wing..." Hermione whispered into her hands.

“No!" Harriet declared. “Listen, we have to go talk to Hagrid. I just realised something, remember how Hagrid said he got Norbert?"

“Y-yeah, from some bloke in a pub?"

“Right, who just wanders around with an illegal dragon egg gambling them in card games? Convenient they found Hagrid isn't it?"

Scott raised his eyebrows. “You know, there's something to that..."

Harriet didn't hesitate. She immediately started running towards Hagrid's hut. She didn't even wait for her friends to catch up.

Hagrid was sitting on his front step, shelling peas and humming merrily.

“Oh, hullo there," Hagrid said. “All done with yer exams, eh?"

“Hagrid!" Harriet said, “I have something to ask you."

“Oh? Well sure," Hagrid said a look of concern crossing his face as the rest of the group finally caught up with her. Kieran was panting more heavily than the rest as he brought up the rear, looking disgruntled as he leaned on his shillelagh.

“Hagrid, the night you won Norbert, the person you got him from... what did he look like?"

Hagrid thought hard, “Y'know, I don't think I ever did see his face. He kept his hood up the whole time."

Harriet looked over her shoulder at her friends, who had all gone wide-eyed at that piece of information.

“Well, that's not so strange, I mean not that yer'd know bein' firs' years but yeh got a lotter folks like that in the Hog's Head. It's usually got folks who'd rather not be seen in it. Probably just a dragon dealer, it's not illegal everywhere after all."

“Did he... did he seem interested in magical creatures in general, or just dragons?" Harriet asked.

“Well yeah, well, let's see... he did ask what I do, and I told 'im I was gamekeeper... hard to remember all the details I'd already had a good bit ter drink, and he kept buyin' me more... He asked me about the kinds of animals I care for and what kinds I'd like ter get if I could... So I told him I always wanted a dragon, and he said he happened to have a dragon egg and offered to play cards for it, though he was worried I wouldn't be able ter handle one, and I told him if I could handle Fluffy, I could handle a dragon!" Hagrid said proudly.

"And... was he interested in Fluffy?" Harriet heard Hermione ask from behind her. Harriet felt relieved that Hermione was catching on to what Harriet was getting at with these questions.

"Well yeah, I mean, even in Greece, Cerberus, like Fluffy, are a right rare sight. But I told 'im, all yer gotter do is just play Fluffy some music and he drifts right off ter sleep."

Hagrid hadn't even finished saying 'sleep' when Harriet spun and started running back towards the castle.

"Hey, where yeh goin'?" Hagrid called after them.

None of them spoke until they reached the Entrance Hall.

"Okay," Harriet panted, putting her hands on her knees. "Now, we have enough evidence to go to Dumbledore."

"I agree," Scott said.

"It was either Quirrell or Voldemort under that cloak, I'll bet you anything," Harriet said as she stood up all the way.

"What about Snape?" Ronnie asked confused.

"No time to explain, I just hope we've gathered enough for Dumbledore to believe us, we should have Firenze to back us up to though Bane might have something to say about that," Harriet looked around curiously. "Now... where exactly is Dumbledore's office?"

The rest looked around too. None of them seemed to know either, and Harriet couldn't think of anyone she knew who'd ever had to go there.

"And just what do you all think you're up to?"

They all spun around to see Professor McGonagall standing right behind them with a stack of books in her arms.

"W-we... we..." Ronnie stuttered.

"We want to see Professor Dumbledore!" Marcus declared.

"You want to see Professor Dumbledore? What for?"

They all looked at each other.

"I-It's private," Harriet said.

"Professor Dumbledore left for the Ministry of Magic ten minutes ago; you will all have to wait until he returns tomorrow."

"He left?!" Harriet asked and felt her heart sink. "And he won't be back until tomorrow?!"

"Yes, Potter, that is what I just said," Professor McGonagall snapped irritably. "Professor Dumbledore is a very great and well-respected wizard, Potter, the Ministry of Magic often calls upon him."

"But this is important, Professor! It's about the Philosopher's Stone!"

Harriet jumped back a pace as the books tumbled from Professor McGonagall's arms to the floor.

"How on earth do you all know about the Philosopher's Stone!?" Professor McGonagall asked utterly dumbfounded.

"Someone's trying to steal it, Professor, we have to tell Professor Dumbledore right away!"

"Potter," Professor McGonagall said seeming to get her composure back. "No one can possibly steal the Stone. The Headmaster and I put extensive defences in the path of any thief, as did most of the other teachers. Or do you doubt our talents?"

Harriet had no retort to this, and Professor McGonagall started gathering her books.

"I suggest all of you head back out onto the grounds. It's far too beautiful a day outside for you all—oh thank you, McIntyre—yes it is far too nice a day for you all to be inside."

Professor McGonagall watched them all with a hawkish expression as they made their way back outside.

"Well, that was a bust," Marcus grumbled.

"It must be tonight," Harriet said pacing on the front steps. "I'll bet you it was Voldemort who called him off, not the Ministry. And I'll bet you that's why my scar hurt! I told you it was a warning!" Harriet declared.

"So what are we going to do?" Ronnie asked nervously.

"We need a plan... we need someone to find and keep an eye on Quirrell..."

"What about Snape?!" Ronnie demanded.

Harriet sighed. She couldn't keep them out of that loop any longer.

"Look, Ronnie, Hermione, I know you're not going to agree with me but I don't think Professor Snape has anything to do with this other than actually trying to stop Quirrell, but I don't have time to explain it all. You just have to trust me, okay?"

Ronnie and Hermione both looked at each other, almost as though they were communicating telepathically. Finally, they both turned and looked at Harriet.

"Alright," Hermione said. "We'll believe you don't believe he's behind it, but we reserve the right to be sceptical given our evidence."

"Er, what she said," Ronnie agreed.

"Fair enough for now," Harriet agreed. "Now, who's going to go look for Quirrell?"

"Hermione," the rest said nearly in unison.

"What?! Why me?!" Hermione asked flustered.

"Because once you find him, you can pretend you want to ask him about his exam," Ronnie explained.

Hermione glowered, "What about Scott? He cares about his grades just as much as I do."

"But he's not as manic about it as you are," Ronnie retorted.

Hermione opened her mouth to snap back, but Harriet stepped between them. "Look, it doesn't matter. We don't have time!"

"Okay, how's this for a plan?" Kieran said in a conspiratorial voice. "Harriet, you go back to the Gryffindor common room—"

"But—"

"Just trust me; you go back to the common room. You don't need to be getting in any more trouble unless something happens. Hermione, go to the staff room, you can pretend to be looking for any number of professors that way, and it'll still be believable."

Hermione sighed but agreed.

"Okay, good, Scott, you go look for Quirrell around his office."

"Got it," Scott said.

"Okay, Marcus, Ronnie and I will go to the door to the third-floor corridor to check on Fluffy and keep anyone else from getting in."

"I'm guarding the corridor too," Harriet declared defiantly. "I am not just sitting in the common room waiting for things to happen."

"Harriet, hun," Ronnie said seeming to get something, "you've already gotten in big trouble, and you saw how angry Professor McGonagall was, she's liable to expel you if she catches you anywhere near there!"

"Fine!" Harriet shouted and turned without another word and stomped into the school.

She was beside herself with anger. How could she just be sitting on the sidelines while everyone else tried to stop Voldemort?

Harriet felt a little surprised to find herself in the common room a few minutes later. She was so distracted she didn't remember giving the password to the Fat Lady. Harriet sat in one of the armchairs by the fireplace, staring blankly into the empty grate resigned to wait uselessly.

Harriet did not have long to wait. Only ten minutes after Harriet had sat down Hermione entered the portrait hole.

"Well that was useless," Hermione muttered miserably.

"What?" Harriet asked, jumping to her feet, anxious for news.

"I went to the staff room but after only a couple minutes Professor Snape came out, and he asked what I was doing so I told him I was looking for Professor Flitwick—"

"Flitwick?"

"It was the first name that came to my head, anyway, so he went back in and got Flitwick so I didn't have anything else I could do but come up with a reason to see him, I've only just gotten away..."

Harriet sighed and slumped back down in her chair. Hermione sat in the chair next to Harriet, looking sympathetic.

"You like to be in the thick of things, don't you Harriet?" Hermione asked with a slightly affectionate smile.

Harriet hung her head a little. "I don't like people doing things for me, especially if they're dangerous. I mean, the person who's pushing all this, Voldemort—"

Hermione shuddered and squeaked.

"—Is the same person who murdered my parents, he even tried to murder me... Hagrid said he killed anyone who got in his way. I don't want others risking their lives..."

Hermione's loving smile grew, and she reached over to squeeze Harriet's hand. Harriet squeezed back a little but quickly looked up when the portrait hole swung open again. Kieran, Marcus, Ronnie and to their surprise Scott all climbed in, looking put out.

"Well, my plan failed miserably," Kieran muttered.

"What happened?" Harriet asked.

"We got to the door to the corridor well enough, and Fluffy was alive and well inside, but McGonagall found us again..."

Harriet groaned.

"We're fine, just more threats of detentions and massive points lost if she sees us near there again," Marcus said dismally.

"As for me," Scott said. "I found Quirrell but more literally than I'd wanted. He gave me my results and told me I'd done an outstanding job then I had no choice but to leave..."

"That's pretty much what happened to me but with Snape and Flitwick," Hermione said.

Harriet looked out the window again in thought before she finally made up her mind.

"Alright, that's it..."

"What's it?" Ronnie asked.

"I'm going out tonight to try and beat Quirrell to the stone."

"You're what?" Marcus asked stunned.

"I'm grabbing my cloak, and I'm sneaking out to beat Quirrell to the Stone... I'm not letting Voldemort come back to power, no matter what. I know you've all heard the stories of what it was like when he was taking over, I know you have because you're all too scared to even say his name!"

The little group all looked at each other sheepishly.

"I'm not going to sit by when I know he's going to make an attempt on the Stone that'll return him to power. If I get caught by McGonagall, and she expels me then so be it, I'll just have to go back to the Dursleys and wait for him there. But if I have the chance to stop him and keep him from turning Hogwarts into a school for the dark arts and killing anyone who gets in his way again then I'm going to take it!"

"You're right, Harriet," Hermione said though in a tiny voice. "You're right."

"That means the only question is how are all six of us going to get there under the cloak?" Marcus asked grinning.

"All six of us?!" Harriet asked caught entirely off guard.

"Oh yeah, what, you think we'd let you go alone?" Ronnie asked, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow.

"I, well..."

"Okay well enough debate about that," Scott said grinning. "Now it's time to plan..."

## * * * *

Harriet jumped when Hermione finally shook her awake that night. It was eleven thirty, and everyone had gone to bed. Harriet couldn't believe she had fallen asleep. Lavender and Parvati were sleeping soundly it seemed, and Ronnie was getting dressed as quietly as she could. Harriet slid out of bed and got dressed pulling on jeans and a black jumper. She then grabbed her cloak and the hand-made flute that Hagrid had given her for Christmas.

They had decided to move all at once, but Harriet would be under the cloak and act as a lookout for Peeves or Filch or any of the other teachers. They had come to that conclusion noting it would take forever to attempt to do it in two trips.

To their horror, however, they got downstairs to a less than desirable sight. Neville had been awake looking for his toad, Trevor, and was confronting Kieran and Marcus.

"You can't go out! You'll get caught like I did! You'll get Gryffindor House in even more trouble!" Neville said his fists clenched in anger.

"Neville, mate, just listen to us, we have to do something incredibly important tonight. The entire wizarding world could be saved by what we're trying to do tonight!" Marcus retorted, looking over his shoulder nervously, clearly hoping their voices weren't carrying enough to wake anyone else.

Neville then spotted Harriet, Hermione and Ronnie.

"You three are sneaking out too?!" Neville asked in exasperation.

"W-we're not sneaking!" Hermione squeaked.

Neville didn't look convinced. He walked over and stood in front of the portrait hole.

"You're not going out; you'll have to fight me!" Neville declared and raised his fists at them.

"Neville!" Ronnie gasped aghast.

"Neville, no one's going to fight you, please just step away from the portrait hole," Kieran said, looking genuinely offended.

Hermione finally sighed and stepped forward. "Neville, I'm sorry about this..." she said and took a deep breath before raising her wand. "Petrificus Totalus!"

The jet of light hit Neville in the chest, and he immediately sprang bolt upright, his arms clamping to his sides and his legs slamming together. Neville's whole body had gone rigid as a plank of wood, and he began to rock backwards and forward and was just about to fall on his face when both Harriet and Marcus ran ahead to catch him.

"Oh Neville, I'm so sorry..." Hermione moaned as they carried Neville over to a sofa. It seemed much kinder than leaving him on the floor.

"We'll let you out when we get back Neville, and we'll explain everything..." Harriet said as she leaned down to hug the prostrate form. Only Neville's eyes seemed able to move as she stood back up and looked around at the other students.

"Okay, we can't afford to waste any more time, follow me," she said and went to the portrait hole. One by one they climbed out, ignoring the Fat Lady who was trying to tell them off.

Harriet put on her cloak. She lifted it just enough that it showed her feet so her friends could follow her. They made their way carefully to Ravenclaw tower where they collected Scott. Harriet was surprised at their luck until they finally made it back to the staircase to the third-floor corridor. There they had to pause and wait for Peeves who was loosening the carpet at the top of the stairs, apparently hoping people would trip.

Once he was gone, Harriet waved to her friends who followed her. Harriet's heart fell as she saw that the door was already open.

"Oh no, Quirrell's already gotten in," Harriet groaned as she peered inside. "Okay... this is it... if anyone else wants to turn back now or wait behind I won't hold it against anyone."

"I'm with you," Ronnie said first.

"I'm with you too," Hermione said.

"And me," Marcus said.

"Aye, me too," said Kieran.

"And me of course," said Scott with an eager grin.

"Oh, what the heck, me too," said another girl's voice that made all of them jump and spin around. Dora Flamel was standing right behind them all.

"Dora!?" Harriet asked.

"What are you doing here?" asked Marcus.

"Well I was on my way to the library, but a train of Gryffindors and a Ravenclaw following a disembodied pair of feet was hard to ignore..." Dora said casually. "So, someone's after my great-grandfather's Stone?"

"Yes, we're fairly sure it's Professor Quirrell, and he's being put up to it by Voldemort," Harriet said. The entire group shuddered at the sound of the name, but Harriet ignored them.

"Quirrell?" Dora asked sounding sceptical.

"It doesn't matter who it is," Harriet said, feeling more urgent. They were running out of time. "What matters is we have to try and stop them before they get to the Stone. They are using it to help Voldemort regain power!"

Dora looked at Harriet long and hard, "Okay, I'll help you," She said looking suddenly very serious.

"Shouldn't a Slytherin like you want to _help_ You-Know-Who return to power?" muttered Ronnie looking mistrusting. Dora glared, but Kieran stepped in between them.

"Look, we don't have time for this rubbish; we have to get past that dog and the other defences set up by at least seven other teachers including the headmaster!"

There were murmurs of assent around the group and they finally slowly pushed the door open the rest of the way. Fluffy immediately began growling from all three heads. The trap door beneath his feet was closed, but there was a small harp on the floor beside it.

Harriet pulled out her flute. "Not much of a musician, but here goes..." she said and put the flute to her lips and blew. Even though she wasn't playing a tune, the soft note seemed to work. Fluffy's eyes began to get heavy, and his snarls slowly ceased. To Harriet's amazement, the giant dog walked in a little circle, sniffing the ground before lying down and falling fast asleep.

"Wow... Hagrid wasn't kidding was he?" Marcus muttered with raised eyebrows.

"You mean all you have to do is play music, and that monster falls asleep?" Dora asked incredulously.

"I guess so," Scott said as he stepped over Fluffy's tail and gave a heave, pulling open the trap door and peering inside. "I can't see the bottom..."

"So, who's going first?" Marcus asked. Harriet took a breath and continued playing. Even at that moment when she took the breath, Fluffy snorted and growled before falling back asleep. Despite that, Harriet raised her hand. She passed the flute to Hermione (Fluffy grunted again) and swung her legs over the ledge.

"If I get hurt in the drop or anything else, go to the owlery and send Hedwig to Professor Dumbledore right away, don't try and save me okay?"

Marcus snorted. "Yeah right, we'll send one of us to the owlery, but the rest of us are coming in after you no matter what."

"I'll go to the owlery..." said a putout sounding voice. They all turned to look at Kieran who was looking miserable.

"What, why?" Ronnie asked.

"Well it's kind of obvious," Dora said. "Hard to jump down into any hole with that leg."

Kieran only gave her the slightest of glares but nodded in agreement.

"Well, wait until I get down and we'll see how deep it is..." Harriet said, and before anyone could say anything else, she slid off the edge and dropped into the hole.

She landed with a soft whump. Whatever she had fallen on was soft yet somehow firm, and had a ribbed quality to it as she ran her hands over it.

"It's okay, I'm okay, and it's a soft landing," Harriet called up to the others.

"Alright, I'm coming next," came Ronnie's voice. Ronnie landed with a similar whump right next to Harriet. "Good aim, eh?"

Harriet rolled her eyes as Scott landed on his feet and stumbled a little.

"Well, that wasn't so bad a—oh no!" Scott said and jumped back quickly flattening himself against the wall.

"What?" Ronnie and Harriet asked.

"It's Devil's Snare! Don't move; it's already got you two!"

Harriet looked down. Indeed, long tendrils of the creeping vine were snaking themselves around her and Ronnie's legs. Harriet tried to tug, but the moment she did she felt the vines cling tighter, and stopped. Ronnie, on the other hand, had started to panic.

"Oh no, oh no no no! Help!" She called struggling harder. As she did, the plant began to wrap itself higher and higher, now grabbing her arms.

"Someone do something!" Harriet cried.

Scott looked up at the trap door. "Hermione, we need fire, it's Devil's Snare, conjure some of your—"

Scott didn't get time to finish before a ball of nearly golden flames shot down into the little chamber. Harriet closed her eyes from the brightness, but immediately felt the effect it had on the plant. The vines whipped and flailed as they let go of her, trying to get away from of the burning hot flames. They were replaced by Ronnie's arms as Harriet felt Ronnie cling to her, sobbing a little in terror.

"Ronnie, it's okay, the plant's gone, it's okay... where did you learn to conjure those flames, Hermione?" Harriet called up to the trap-door.

However, the flute kept casually playing, and instead, Marcus dropped in, though he gave a little shout of pain and fell back on his backside.

"Ow, that hurt, those were my flames thank you very much, Harriet," Marcus said with a mixture of pride and offence.

"Oh, sorry, w-where did you learn to make those?!"

"I have been getting private lessons from Flitwick all year long. I have to have learned something..." he muttered as he got to his feet, wincing a little and taking the weight off his left ankle. "Anyway, Kieran mate, I hate to say it, but you're not gonna manage this drop."

"You're sure?" Kieran called back sounding deeply disappointed.

"Yeah, I twisted my ankle rather fierce coming down..."

"Hmmm, the Devil's Snare was probably supposed to act as a cushion and trap all in one," Hermione's voice added thoughtfully. There was a snarl, and the sound of the flute music started again quickly, putting the dog back to sleep.

"Well... alright... nothing for it then... Hermione? Give me the flute; you lot get ready to catch Dora and Hermione when they come," Kieran said.

"Are yeh sure?" Scott asked. There was another burst of flame from Marcus, the Devil's Snare had tried to come creeping out at them again.

"Aye, I'll take the flute and play while you guys drop down then take the cloak and head to the owlery."

"Alright..." Scott replied. "Good luck mate."

"You too," was all the more Kieran said. There was another pause in the flute playing, and Scott held his arms out.

Hermione came down first, and Scott managed to take most of her impact. Ronnie had finally managed to calm down enough to let go of Harriet, and they both got to their feet as Dora came down as well. Above them, they could hear the ominous sound of the flute growing quieter and quieter as Kieran moved to the door before finally leaving them with only the sound of their breathing and Fluffy's grunts as he awoke.

"Well, this is it," Harriet said. They all turned as one to look down a long passageway.

The passage was unlit, and they moved as a chain, Harriet in the lead with her hand running along the wall to guide her, Ronnie behind with her hand on Harriet's shoulder, then Hermione, then Scott, then Marcus, then Dora. After what felt like many minutes, or even an hour, Harriet couldn't tell in the darkness; they finally saw some light ahead.

"What's that sound?" Ronnie asked as they got nearer to the light.

"Not sure," Hermione said behind them.

"It sounds a little like wings, lots and lots of them," Dora guessed.

They finally left the passageway into a very well lit chamber. They all squinted up to see that the entire ceiling looked alive with little fluttering and brightly coloured birds. Across the room was a large wooden door with a silver handle.

"Reckon they'll attack us?" Ronnie asked, looking up at the birds but seeming a little more confident now they were in the light.

"Most likely," Harriet muttered unenthusiastically. "Well, nothing for it but to try."

Harriet quickly covered her head and face in her arms and darted across the room towards the door. However, the birds didn't seem to do anything but continue to flutter about the ceiling. Harriet gingerly put out a hand on the handle, expecting them to attack now if she touched the door, but again they did nothing. However, the handle was locked.

The rest of the group joined her. Hermione attempted to unlock the door magically, but it did no good.

"Great, now what?" Marcus muttered.

Harriet looked up at the birds, deep in thought. One broke ranks with the others just enough that Harriet could get a good look at it. It wasn't a bird at all.

"Keys!" Harriet said in shock. "They're flying keys! This must be Flitwick's test! He's charmed the keys to fly!"

"You're right!" said Dora, looking excited now. "We must have to catch the right one, look! There are brooms!"

There were indeed three broomsticks against the wall of the chamber.

"Great, we're getting somewhere, now... how do we know what one's the right one?"

"Hmm," Ronnie said as she examined the door handle. "I'd say it would be old-fashioned, and silver, just like this door handle."

"Good thinking," Harriet said and looked back up at the keys. Before she could do anything else, however, Dora ran over to the brooms, grabbed one and kicked off. She was an excellent flyer. Harriet quickly ran over with Ronnie. They both caught one of the remaining brooms each and mounted them before kicking off too.

While Dora it seemed was a good flyer, Harriet had the quicker eyes.

"There," Harriet said. She had spotted a large silver key, just like what Ronnie had suggested, that had a conspicuously bent wing.

"Okay, here's the plan, Dora, you move below. Ronnie, you come at it from above to force it down. I'll go straight for it and catch it. It looks pretty rough already, so I doubt it'll be as bad as a Snitch. Alright, GO!"

Ronnie climbed while Dora dived circling below, her eyes locked on the key. Harriet shot straight in. Despite being injured the key was still swift. It darted and jinked away. Harriet finally managed to get close to it when it just managed to dip enough her hands closed on air.

"No!" She shouted angrily. The key darted downwards, towards Dora. Harriet could see Dora grin and shoot off after the key herself. To Harriet's amazement, Dora managed to hip-check the key against the wall. She backed away, and the key plummeted to the floor both of its wings crumpled. Harriet watched Hermione walk over and pick up the key, looking at it with a sad expression before she walked over to the door, stuck it into the lock and turned it. It was the right key.

"We're through!" Hermione called up to them and Harriet, Ronnie and Dora flew down to join them. Hermione was looking at Dora with grave disapproval.

"You might have found a way of catching it without killing the poor thing," Hermione muttered, cradling the limp key in her hands. Dora raised her eyebrows.

"Um, Granger, it's a key... it's not alive," Dora retorted. Hermione opened her mouth to respond when Harriet stepped between them.

"Look, we don't have time for this; we have to get to Quirrell and the Stone. Let's go," She ordered.

They walked through the door. Marcus it seemed was losing the pain in his ankle and didn't have to lean on Scott anymore.

The next chamber was dark when they entered. Then torches lit themselves along the wall, and the room was revealed to be a giant chessboard. Their side of the board was populated with towering black chess pieces while the opposite side contained faceless white figures. They all turned and looked at Ronnie, who was studying the pieces carefully.

"Reckon we gotta play to get across?" Ronnie asked herself as she strode up to one of the black pieces. "That's right isn't it, we have to take your places and play our way across?" she asked the piece.

To their surprise, the black piece turned to look down at her and nodded. Ronnie set her face and turned back to the rest of them.

"Alright, let's see... Harriet, you take the place of that bishop there, Hermione, you be that rook."

"A rook? It looks like a castle tower to me," Hermione said studying the piece.

"In chess, it's called a rook," Ronnie barked. "Scott, you be the other rook there. Marcus, you be that other bishop. Flamel, you be that pawn—"

"Why do I have to be a pawn?!" Dora spluttered angrily.

"Just trust me! I have a plan already. Alright, I'll take the place of this knight here," Ronnie said patting the piece she had spoken to. At that, all six of the pieces Ronnie had indicated turned and marched off the board. The six of them made their way onto the board and took their places.

"Now, white always plays first, see?" Ronnie said and indicated a white pawn which had moved two spaces forward. Harriet felt herself trembling a little. She remembered the brutal nature of wizard's chess on a small scale. What would this version be like? Her worries were answered when Ronnie sacrificed their other knight. The white queen smashed him to the floor and dragged his limp form off the board before retaking her spot.

"Well... looks like I'll have to be more careful... especially with so many of us on the board now," Ronnie said swallowing.

Despite her slight nerves, Ronnie appeared to be in her element. She had them darting around the board, though as they did, Harriet couldn't help but notice a pattern. Instead of their king, Ronnie seemed to be putting most of her effort on protecting and getting Dora advanced across the board. Sure enough, Ronnie gave a triumphant whoop when Dora finally made it all the way to the back row.

"A queen! Dora, you're a queen now!" Ronnie declared pumping her fist in the air.

Dora looked down at her tile and back at Ronnie and grinned, "Brilliant!"

"Right," Ronnie said with a smirk at the white pieces. "Now things are going to be interesting."

Now the tide of the game entirely turned. With two queens Ronnie managed to make relatively short work of the white pieces until finally, they had the white king in check. Despite their near victory, Ronnie was looking troubled.

"Well... nothing for it I suppose."

"What's that?" Scott asked.

"I have to be taken..."

"No!" Harriet shouted. She nearly took a step towards Ronnie when Ronnie held up her hand.

"Stay there Harriet! Don't move! I have to be sacrificed. If I don't move and let their queen take me she'll take you instead, and we'll lose check, but if I move and let her take me, you can move and put the king in checkmate. Then you can all move on and stop Quirrell!"

Ronnie looked around at them. When Hermione couldn't come up with another option, they all agreed Ronnie's choice was the only way.

"Alright, here goes," Ronnie said nervously and made her move. The following events were horrible to watch. The white queen immediately strode over and swung her long stone arm down. Ronnie was sent sprawling. Her head bounced roughly off the stone floor, and she went limp.

"Ronnie!" Hermione yelled and was also about to take a step when Scott yelled out for her to stop.

"Don't move, Hermione!" Scott shouted. "Let Harriet take the king and get this over with!"

Hermione froze and wiped the tears from her eyes. Harriet took a deep breath and strode three spaces to her left. The white king threw his crown to the floor, and the rest of the pieces bowed and moved aside to reveal another large door behind them. They had won.

Harriet and the rest ran over to Ronnie. She was breathing, and her eyes were rolled back in her head. She was unconscious but alive.

"What are we going to do?" Hermione asked, holding Ronnie's head in her lap.

"Some of us have to keep going," Harriet said. She leaned down to hug Ronnie. "You were so brave, Ronnie," she said softly. Ronnie gave a little moan. "Who'll help take her out of here...?"

Without any argument, Dora and Marcus both nodded. There was an expression on Dora's face that Harriet couldn't quite identify as Dora looked down at Ronnie. Was it affection or pity? With nothing else for it, she, Hermione and Scott got to their feet.

"Alright, we'll go on. There can't be that many more trials left. Good luck," Harriet said.

"You too," Marcus replied.

Harriet looked at Hermione and Scott who nodded falling in behind her as Harriet turned and ran for the door. They ran up the next passage and were just about to hit the next door when a horrible stench made them all double over. Harriet almost retched.

"Oh, what is that?!" Scott asked his voice nasally as he pinched his nose. "Ugh, I can taste it in the air!"

Harriet forced herself to the door and pushed it open. The smell hit them even stronger and in the middle of the new room was a troll. It was larger than the one that had attacked Harriet in the bathroom last Halloween. This troll looked unconscious too, if not nearly dead with a giant lump on its head that was bleeding profusely.

"Well, lucky Quirrell beat us to this one, huh?" Harriet said as they skirted the room, still too nervous to get near the troll.

"Are you sure this wasn't Snape?" Hermione asked, also pinching her nose "This seems a bit more than Quirrell could take on."

Harriet didn't answer. She got to the door on the other side of the room and pushed it open. They headed down another passageway. The next door, however, held the biggest surprise yet.

Harriet yelled and jumped back thinking she had nearly stepped off a ledge. Inside the room was nothing but blackness. As Harriet blinked and took in the room properly, she saw that it was in fact filled with little spots of white light, almost like stars.

Hermione stepped to the edge of the passageway and knelt, putting her hand down. There was a floor there, but it looked just like space too.

"It's been bewitched, just like the ceiling of the Great Hall," Hermione said. She took a step out, and Harriet and Scott followed. The feeling was bizarre like they were standing in the middle of space. And then Harriet realised they were, in fact, standing in space, and the little spots of light were supposed to be stars.

"It's a giant planetarium," Scott said as he looked around in wonder. "This must be Professor Sinistra's trial."

"But what do we have to do?"

"I think we have to assemble the solar system," Scott said as he strode to the middle of the room. Almost at once, a small sphere of light appeared right in front of him. It was a tiny model of the sun.

"Well, that doesn't sound too hard," Harriet said.

Scott shook his head. "It'll be harder than you think, look," He said and pointed in a circle to the edges of the room. As he did, Harriet noticed there was a long series of small orbs around the room.

"We'll have to do all the planets, and their moons, get them in the right places... this is going to be a doozy," Scott muttered as he and Hermione walked to the edge of the room and examined the little models of planets and moons.

"Of course, Quirrell was the previous astronomy professor, I bet he solved this in no time," Hermione said bitterly.

"Well, nothing for it then, do you see Mercury anywhere?" Scott asked Hermione.

"I-I think so," Hermione said studying one of the planets. "Or is this Ganymede?"

Scott walked over checking it. "No, that's Ganymede."

And they were off. While Harriet thought she was doing reasonably well in Astronomy classes, she was rapidly learning she had nothing on either Hermione or Scott. They worked feverishly trying to set the planets and all their moons in the right places and orbits.

Finally, Hermione and Scott stood back looking very pleased with each other.

"There," Scott said with a grin. "Finished."

As he and Hermione backed up the little balls, all sprang to life spinning and moving around the sun. Harriet winced when the black vanished, and more torches lit themselves on the walls. As Harriet got her vision back, she saw that they were in merely another stone room, with a door at the far end and the little planets once more set on small pedestals around the edges of the room.

"Okay, we have to get moving," Harriet insisted as she went to the next door. If she was right, the only trial left should be Professor Snape's.

Given all the other grand trials they had encountered so far: the Devil's Snare, the keys, the chessboard, the troll and the planetarium, Harriet was expecting something a little more exciting for this room. Instead, all she saw was a small table and seven different bottles lined up on top of it.

"Well, this is anti-climactic," Scott muttered, echoing Harriet's thoughts. Hermione reached the table first and looked at the bottles thoughtfully. Harriet and Scott stepped into the room, but both jumped when a wall of purple flames sprang up behind them blocking the doorway back. Another wall of black flames appeared in front of the door on the other side of the room.

"We're trapped!" Harriet declared.

"No, we're not," Hermione said. Harriet looked at her and saw she was reading a small piece of parchment.

"We're not?" Harriet asked.

"No, we just have to solve the riddle on this piece of paper.

Harriet and Scott walked over to her and read.

 

_Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,_

_Two of us will help you, whichever you would find,_

_One among us seven will let you move ahead,_

_Another will transport the drinker back instead,_

_Two among_ _our number hold only nettle wine,_

_Three of us are killers, waiting hidden in line._

_Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,_

_To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four,_

_First, however slyly the poison tries to hide,_

_You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;_

_Second, different are those who stand at either end,_

_But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;_

_Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,_

_Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;_

_Fourth, the second left and second on the right_

_Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight._

 

"Hah," Hermione said clapping her hands. "Fantastic! It's logic, not magic!"

"Logic?" Harriet asked. The clues made absolutely no sense to her.

"Yes, now give me time to think," Hermione said.

And she was off. Harriet and Scott stood there and watched with bemusement as Hermione read the parchment and looked at the bottles. Finally, Hermione turned to them and smiled.

"I've got it!" She said and pulled the smallest bottle and the round bottle from the line. "This little one will get us through the black fire, towards the Stone."

"Get one of us you mean," Harriet said. "There's hardly enough there for a whole swallow."

"Well you know what I mean," Hermione said. "Anyway, the other bottle I pulled out will get us back through the purple flames to the chamber."

"There's a lot more in that one, enough for two," Scott muttered.

"Okay, you two drink that one then."

"What?" Both Hermione and Scott asked at once.

"You two drink that and get back with the others. I'll go on after Quirrell."

"But Harriet, you're no match—"

"No arguing!" Harriet said, crossing her arms. "I'm the one who stopped Voldemort the last time. It's my job to stop him this time, no one else's."

Hermione and Scott both gave her long searching look before Hermione stepped forward and gave Harriet a powerful hug.

"You're so brave, Harriet. You're a truly great witch."

"Best I've ever seen," Scott agreed, managing a smile.

Harriet felt her cheeks getting warm. "Thanks, but I'm not as good as you two..."

Hermione let go of Harriet and shook her head.

"Books and cleverness, those only get you so far, you've got so much more than that."

"Aye, yer braver than anyone I've ever met, and that's sayin' somethin'," Scott agreed.

Harriet swallowed and looked at the bottle Hermione had indicated.

"Alright, hand me the bottle, I'll drink and go first."

Hermione reached out a trembling hand and handed it over to Harriet.

"Alright, after I get through the flames, you two go back. You need to get back before the troll wakes up at the very least. Dumbledore should be on his way back if Kieran were successful, maybe even the others have got more teachers to come help us, like McGonagall; okay, here goes."

Before either of them could stop her, Harriet swallowed potion from the little bottle. Her insides immediately felt like they had been turned to ice.

"Wow, that's cold!" Harriet declared. "Okay, go!" she called, and before either Hermione or Scott could say anything more, Harriet turned and ran into the flames. She didn't feel it burning, but the fire did warm her. Her insides stopped being so cold, and she stopped shivering. She looked back and was barely able to see Scott and Hermione disappear through the purple flames.

Harriet had wanted to have them go first to make sure they'd be safe. But, the look in Scott's eye told her all too plainly that Scott was planning to take the potion from her if he had the chance to go in her place. And Harriet couldn't have allowed that.

Harriet took a deep breath and turned to open the final door. Her hand trembled against her will. She pushed it open and there he was. Right in the middle of the room was the smiling face of Professor Quirrell. His face wasn't trembling; it was sneering the wickedest sneer Harriet had ever seen in her life.

"Ah, Potter, I was hoping you would come."

 

 

*General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk is in fact based on General Iroh from the Avatar: The Last Airbender TV-series, so technically this is, in fact, a more authentic Wengshuk quote than the rest. It was just too appropriate to this chapter to not use it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Dora Flamel property of me!
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


	15. The Thief and the Dark Lord

"There comes a time when all the wands are snapped, and all the spells are cast when the only weapon you have left is your humanity."

General (ret) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

"I knew it was you," Harriet declared.

"Oh yes, it's me," Quirrell sneered, clearly very pleased with himself. "Poor, st-t-t-t-uttering Professor Quirrell. Who but a nosy eleven-year-old who couldn't mind her own business to save her life would ever suspect him?"

"Professor Snape," Harriet retorted.

Quirrell's eyes darkened a little, "Oh yes, Severus... yes he did suspect me, and so did Dumbledore. But you see how well they accomplished keeping me from the Stone."

Harriet's heart sank. Did that mean Quirrell already had the Stone?

"Fortunately, Snape himself was perhaps my best cover. Who would spare me a second thought with him slouching about the place with his permanent scowl? He does seem the classic villain, doesn't he?"

"We did think it was him at first," Harriet said, wanting to buy time, hoping Professor Dumbledore was on his way back. "My friends thought he was the one jinxing my broom but it was you, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes, it was me. Your friends must have seen Severus muttering the counter curse, trying to save you."

"Professor Snape was trying to save me?" Harriet asked.

"Oh yes, that's why he refereed the next match as well. Unfortunately for me, your meddling friend Granger knocked me over when she came to set Severus' robes on fire. Even if I was thwarted in my attempt to kill you, it was quite amusing watching him turn the rest of the staff against him, since they all thought he was just trying to prevent Gryffindor from winning. What a silly little world this school is. Everyone is so concerned with what's going on inside they can't see past the castle walls. The irony is he didn't even need to bother with Dumbledore watching my every step, but Severus seems oddly protective of you, which is all the more interesting considering his history with your father..."

Harriet didn't know how to digest that information. Professor Snape was protective of her specifically? Her father and Professor Snape knew each other?

"His history with my father?" Harriet asked in spite of herself.

"Oh yes, they knew each other at school. They utterly hated each other. Knowing that even I would have guessed he'd have tried to help you fall off your broom but... maybe the years he's spent under the thumb of that old fool Dumbledore have softened him after all...?"

Harriet didn't know how to react to this, so she changed the subject. "So it was you who let the troll in too, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes, trolls are a speciality of mine. I'm sure you saw what I did to the one in the chamber back there... But unfortunately, it was just another in a long series of setbacks as, of course, Severus was already on to me and beat me to the corridor. Although seeing the mangled leg, it cost him was highly amusing, as was the pain on his face realising how close you had come to dying on his watch."

Something in Harriet's memory sparked when Quirrell said this. She remembered the strange look on Professor Snape's face after Ronnie had knocked out the troll. Was that what that look on his face had been?

"Now, enough wasting time Potter," Quirrell said as he drew his wand. Harriet tried to reach for hers.

"Incarcerous," Quirrell said, giving his wand a complicated flick. Harriet watched in horror as cords shot out of Quirrell's wand, wrapping themselves around her tightly at the chest and waist, pinning her arms down and behind her back. More wrapped themselves around her thighs, knees, calves and ankles. The worst part was the cords that bound themselves around her mouth, slipping between her teeth and pulling the corners of her mouth back, gagging her. Harriet grunted and toppled over backwards, landing on her behind before flopping over onto her side.

"Good, now be a good girl while I examine this mirror. It would probably be more prudent to just kill you now of course, but you'll make far too valuable a hostage should Dumbledore return before too soon..."

Harriet grunted a little into the painful cords in her mouth as she tried to wriggle around enough to see what Quirrell was talking about. Now she saw it. Quirrell was standing in front of the Mirror of Erised.

"This is the key... of course Dumbledore would come up with something as frustratingly simple as this... but he's in London, the gullible fool, and I'll be miles away by the time he gets back. Though again, should he return," Quirrell turned his attention from the mirror to sneer at Harriet again. "I have you..."

Harriet grunted trying to sit back up again as Quirrell returned his attention to the mirror.

"I see myself with the Stone... I can see myself giving it to my master... but how do I get it...? Is it inside the mirror? No... it wouldn't be anything so simple as that..."

As Harriet watched, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. At that moment she somehow knew how to find the Stone. The only thing in the world I want right now is to stop Quirrell and Voldemort, if I can look in the mirror all by myself, I should be able to see it... but first I have to keep distracting Quirrell.

"You don't have to serve him," she said. Her voice was a little muffled, and she couldn't form her words right being hardly able to move her lips, but she could at least talk well enough to be understood.

At her words, Quirrell froze. He didn't even appear to be breathing.

"Don't talk about what you don't understand, Potter..." Quirrell muttered. In the mirror, Harriet could see his face had gone from frustration to terror.

"You have a choice; Dumbledore could keep you safe. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world. You don't have to be evil."

Quirrell rounded on Harriet, now looking enraged.

"There is no good and evil, Potter! There is only power, and those too weak to seek it! I am not so weak! It was I who found my master when I travelled the world! It was I who brought him here! It was I—"

"Enough of this!" spoke another voice. While the voice seemed to come from Quirrell, it was not Quirrell speaking. The voice was high, cold and raspy, and was filled with more venom than any voice Harriet had ever heard in her life. "The girl, bring her to the mirror, use her, make her gaze into the mirror."

"Yes, master," Quirrell said in a soft, reverent voice. He raised his wand and gave it another flick, and Harriet's bonds fell away. Harriet warily got to her feet, rubbing her cheeks where the cords had held her so tightly.

"Come here, Potter, look into the mirror and tell me what you see!" Quirrell demanded, his wand still pointed at her.

Harriet took a breath and finally walked forward.

 _I'll have to lie,_ Harriet thought as she stepped in front of the mirror, _I'll lie, just make something up._

However, as Harriet looked in the mirror, something extraordinary happened. She didn't see herself finding the Stone. Instead, her reflection simply winked and reached into its pocket. As Harriet watched, open-mouthed, her reflection drew its hand back out and held up a small, ruby stone: The Philosopher's Stone. Her reflection then stuck the Stone back in its pocket, and as it did so, Harriet felt something drop into her pocket. Through whatever magic Dumbledore had put into the mirror, Harriet had gotten the Stone.

"What do you see?!" Quirrell demanded. His wand was only an inch from Harriet's ear.

"I-I see me... I'm... I'm head girl... and I'm Quidditch captain... and I'm shaking hands with Professor Dumbledo—"

"Oh get out of the way, Potter!" Quirrell demanded. He shoved her hard and Harriet yelled out in pain as she landed hard on her shoulder.

Harriet could hear Quirrell muttering again as she slowly pushed herself up to her feet. Quirrell didn't know she had the Stone; she could try and make a run for it. She wasn't bound anymore, and if he thought she was useless, he might not care if she ran. Harriet only managed to back away two paces when again the evil, disembodied voice spoke.

"She lies! The girl lies! Stop her!"

"Potter! Stay where you are! Tell me what you saw in the mirror!" Quirrell demanded.

"Let me speak to her... I want to see her face to face..."

"But, Master, is that wise? You are still so weak—"

"Do not call me weak you pathetic, snivelling servant! You are nothing without me! Now do as you're told!"

"Y-y-y-yes... m-m-m-master..." Quirrell stuttered. It was an odd moment for Harriet, seeing this glimpse of the Professor Quirrell she had first known, the timid, gentle soul, juxtaposed with the wicked Quirrell who had bound her and made her look in the mirror.

However, what happened next was a vision so horrible it would haunt her for the rest of her life. As she watched, Quirrell reached up and began to unravel his turban. It finally fell away, and Harriet thought his head looked rather small without it. But when Quirrell turned around, Harriet screamed.

The back of Quirrell's head was another face. The most horrible face Harriet had ever seen. The skin was milky white. The mouth was drawn with barely any lips, and the nose was flat with slit-like nostrils. The worst part was the eyes. They were gleaming red and hateful. Harriet had seen those eyes before. They were the same eyes that haunted her nightmares. She knew who it was now without any introduction. It was the face of Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of Quirrell's head.

"Harriet Potter... see what you have made of me? I'm nothing but shadow and vapour, reduced to sharing the bodies of others for form—"

"It's what you deserve!"

Harriet's voice sounded so strange to her she almost thought she hadn't spoken it aloud. Voldemort's red eyes flared and the lipless mouth curled into a snarl.

"As arrogant and foolish as your parents!  You still believe it is good and evil in this world, Potter? No, it is as faithful Quirrell told you, there is only power. I nearly had it; it was in my clutches until you happened... my chance at greatness and immortality was lost at the hands of a mere infant!"

Harriet took a nervous step backwards. Quirrell also began walking backwards towards her, looking so purposeful in his movements Harriet could only think that Voldemort was now controlling Quirrell's body.

"Don't even try to flee, Potter! In fact, why don't you join me? Follow me, and I will show you the power I have shown Quirrell. Follow me, and we will control this world. You would soon be even higher than Quirrell; I see your ambition... your determination... you could be quite useful, Potter... so now it's your choice... join me, or join your pathetic parents who died grovelling at my feet, begging me for mercy!"

"LIAR!"

Harriet felt her throat burn a little as she shouted the word with all her might.

Voldemort's red eyes flashed with anger before the amused, lipless sneer returned. "Ah, such bravery... I have always valued bravery... many have bravely given their lives both for me and against me... just like your parents. Your father died first. The bravest man I've ever seen, if foolish... though your mother was the bravest by far... She didn't need to die. I wasn't there to kill her... I was there to kill you, but she gave her life for you... Now, honour their sacrifice and give me that stone in your pocket like a good girl and you may go..."

Harriet swallowed. He knew. Somehow Voldemort knew she'd gotten the Stone.

"Or, again, you could join me, Potter... I could teach you magic beyond your wildest dreams... I can give you power, beauty; I could make you feared..."

"Never!" Harriet yelled again. She turned and scrambled up the steps back towards the door.

"Seize her!" Voldemort cried. Harriet felt a hand clasp on her ankle, and she fell hard on her stomach. At the same time, Harriet gave out a cry of pain. The moment the hand grabbed her leg, Harriet's scar felt like it tore itself open. Pain wracked her body, and she forced herself to open her eyes and look over her shoulder. Quirrell had turned around and grabbed her. His face was frantic looking with wide and desperate eyes.

"Let me go!" Harriet shouted. The pain was getting worse, and in her desperation, Harriet turned and swung her arm at Quirrell as hard as she could to try and knock him off her. Quirrell sneered as he caught her by the wrist, but it did not last. As he grabbed, Quirrell screamed and let go again. He stumbled backwards away from her, staring in disbelief at his hand. As Harriet watched, she saw blisters and burns spreading over the skin of his hand.

"I said seise her!" Voldemort cried again. Quirrell looked at Harriet, though a noticeable change had come over him. Instead of his manic sneer, his face was full of terror.

"No, fight him!" Harriet cried. "You don't have to obey him!" Now that Quirrell had let go of her the pain in her scar was receding.

"I control you! I own you!" Voldemort cried again. "Seize her!"

Quirrell came at her again. Harriet reacted instinctively and tried to grab his wrists instead. She managed to catch one of his wrists though his other hand clenched hard around her throat. Harriet choked, and her forehead exploded in pain again as Quirrell came back in contact with her. However, just as before, Quirrell cried in pain, and Harriet felt his hand slacken on her throat.

"Master! My hands! I cannot touch her! It burns!"

Harriet managed to bring her leg up and kick Quirrell hard in the chest.

"AH!" Quirrell cried in pain and stumbled backwards, letting go of Harriet again. As the pain once more abated, Harriet was able to see Quirrell staring at his hands. They were indeed blistered, and the skin was crackling and blackened in places. Harriet put a hand to her neck and looked at her hand where she had grabbed Quirrell. She hadn't been hurt at all; only Quirrell was hurt by touching her skin.

"Kill her! Kill her you fool!" Voldemort cried and brought Harriet back to her senses. Harriet looked at Quirrell, and she knew what she had to do. As Quirrell stuck his hand gingerly into his pocket, trying to find his wand again, Harriet charged. She leapt up and pressed her hands hard against Quirrell's face. Quirrell screamed in pain and fell backwards.

"KILL HER! KILL HER!" Harriet could hear Voldemort crying out. Quirrell was screaming. Harriet kept her hold on Quirrell's face even though her vision was going white from the pain in her scar. Even she cried out in pain, but she did not let go. Quirrell's hands were scrambling, trying to push her off of him.

"I'm sorry!" Harriet yelled knowing the pain she must have been causing Quirrell, but she couldn't stop fighting.

Despite her efforts, the pain was becoming too much.  She felt her grip starting to slacken, and her ears were starting to ring. The world was beginning to spin. Even the pain in her scar was starting to go away.

"Harriet!? HARRIET!"

The voice sounded like it was coming from a long ways away. She didn't know who it was, but she felt comforted hearing it as the world went black.

## * * * *

She didn't know what it was that woke her at first. All she was aware of was that she was lying down on her back. Whatever she was laying on was soft, and warm.

"So, she bested Voldemort yet again. Remarkable... simply remarkable."

Harriet jumped hearing the voice and whimpered. Dark images of white lipless faces with burning red eyes swarmed her mind, and she tried to sit up. She felt a warm hand on her forehead, gently pressing her back down. She felt calmer at the touch and let herself relax again.

"Yes... she is indeed..." said another voice. This voice was much closer, deeper and kinder sounding than the first voice had been.

"Quirrell died then?" asked the first voice. Part of Harriet wanted to open her eyes, but as she lay there on that soft surface, feeling warm and bundled with that tender hand on her forehead, she thought it was much, much better to continue lying quietly with her eyes closed.

"Yes... Quirrell's dead. Voldemort fled, of course," said the second voice. It was a familiar voice, but she just couldn't think of whom it belonged.

"Of course," muttered the first voice. The voice was deep and gravely compared to the second voice, but even this voice seemed somehow pleasant. It even seemed a little familiar. "He'll run back to his hole to hide again, I'm sure."

"Yes, but for how long is anyone's guess. Quirrell was unfortunate enough to happen across him; there's no telling who the next will be."

There was a pause in the conversation now. Harriet felt her eyelids getting heavier in the quiet and the warmth.

"You've been with her since it happened?" asked the first voice again, rousing her once more.

"Yes, and I shall remain until she wakes."

Harriet sighed softly. Somehow those words made her feel even warmer and safer than before.

"Not sure which I find harder to believe... that she survived, or that her friends willingly followed her into all those trials."

"That is the power of true friendship, Sherrod... it does not matter the age. You should be as aware of that as anyone."

"True, true... that still doesn't make it any less remarkable."

"No, it does not..."

Harriet felt the hand lift off her forehead and the creak of a chair as the second speaker sat back.

"So, Sherrod, you said you had news...?"

"Yes... news from across the pond. Seven states have now threatened secession should the president sign the law."

"And if one goes... more will go. I've met the new Wizarding president; he is a good and decent man, I do not envy him the position he is in. He does not need to add the tally of warfare to his record should it come to that."

"It doesn't take a genius to figure out what will happen, however. He'll sign the law, the states will uphold their threat to secede, and the president will have little choice but to intervene or allow the entire country to fall to pieces."

"Though in the process far more could be lost..."

"Albus, you of all people know the costs of delayed action..." the man named Sherrod replied, a hint of warning in his voice.

"Alas, sometimes even experience isn't enough to convince one that warfare is ever the proper course when so many avenues of peace remain. Still, we shall have to deal with the reality when it happens, and it will not be enough no matter how we prepare."

"Oh come off it, Albus, you would sign that law faster than anyone. An entire population oppressed to second and third-class citizens. The aboriginal population deserves all the same rights as the rest of the country. If they want warfare to maintain that oppression, I say give it to them."

There then followed a few moments of silence. Harriet felt herself just about to drift off again when the one named Sherrod spoke up once more.

"So the Stone is being destroyed?"

"Yes."

"It will be the end of an era then... does Dora know?"

"Yes... she is with her parents and Nicolas and Perenelle now. She will return for the end of year feast, however."

"A terrible burden for one her age..."

"Yes," said the voice named Albus.  "One she will probably bear for the rest of her days..."

Harriet furrowed her brow a little at this, but it made her forehead hurt, and she winced in pain. Her pain was answered by a soft, cool, wet compress placed against her forehead and she sighed in relief as the pain abated.

"So, how much do you think Voldemort told her?"

"I cannot say until she awakes, though I doubt it was very much if he did say anything about that night."

There was another pause when the one named Albus spoke up again.

"You disapprove of my not telling her?"

"I do, though I do understand your hesitation. She is your charge, and I leave it to your judgement. But were I in your shoes I would prefer her to know sooner to prepare her for what is to come, rather than having it thrust upon her only when it has become an absolute necessity."

There was another lull in the conversation when the one named Albus changed the subject.

"I trust you will be there at King's Cross when the train arrives?"

"Of course, I may be more discrete than I was the last time, but yes, I will be there."

"Good. That is some of the best news I have heard in the past two days. Thank you for your visit, Sherrod, and for the news."

"Of course, Albus, farewell."

"Farewell my friend."

Harriet felt a gentle hand on her shoulder. It felt lighter than the first hand, but stronger somehow.

"Sleep well, Harriet. When you return to King's Cross, listen for what no one else can hear. You'll know I'm there even if you can't see me. I'll always be there to watch you and make sure you're safe."

The hand gave a squeeze and released. Harriet could hear the sound of someone walking away on a stone floor. She moaned again and felt something round touch her lower lip.

"Drink this, Harriet, you need your rest. You overheard far more than you needed to in your state. This will give you dreamless sleep until you're ready to awake."

Harriet merely responded by opening her mouth. As she did, she felt a warm, smooth liquid pass her lips and she gave a couple of swallows before she immediately fell back to sleep.

## * * * *

The Snitch was only feet away from her as she raised her arm to catch it. The little glint of gold seemed like it was going in and out of focus like she was chasing it through a thick fog.

"Good afternoon, Harriet," said a voice.

Harriet blinked and finally opened her eyes. What she saw made her jump. What she'd taken for the Snitch was the glasses of Professor Dumbledore who was sitting right beside her and smiling quite contently. Harriet looked around and realised she was in the hospital wing. How had she gotten here? Then she remembered.

"Professor Dumbledore! Sir! The Stone! Quirrell must have it!"

"Harriet, Harriet, please calm yourself, or Madame Pomfrey shall throw me out. And that is no idle threat. It seems you are a little behind the times, which of course given your unconscious state is more than understandable. Quirrell does not have the Stone."

Harriet opened her mouth, and Dumbledore said quickly "Nor does Lord Voldemort."

"He, they don't? I stopped them?" Harriet asked her eyes wide with amazement. "But I thought, I thought I'd died..."

"And you very nearly did," said Dumbledore in a grave voice. "There was a moment when I thought I had arrived too late, but you have more strength in you than I would have ever imagined."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled a little with what was unmistakably pride. Harriet felt her cheeks get hot and she looked around the room. Her eyes immediately stopped on the table beside her, which was covered with more sweets and cards than Harriet had ever seen in her life.

"Tokens of appreciation from your friends and admirers. What happened down in the bowels of the school between you and Professor Quirrell has been kept most secret, which naturally means the entire school knows. The most ambitious of your gifts was that from your friend Ronnie's brothers Fred and George Weasley who attempted to send you a toilet seat. I believe their intention in such a gift was to be amusing, as it rather was, but Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori thought it was not hygienic enough for the Hospital Wing and confiscated it."

"H-how... how long was I out?"

"Nearly three whole days. Your friends will be most pleased to learn that you have come round at last. They have all been anxious, and have spent most of their free time with at least one of them here to help keep an eye on you."

"But sir, then, what happened to the Stone?"

"It seems you are not to be distracted. No, neither Quirrell nor Voldemort managed to take the Stone from you. I returned in just the nick of time to pull you off of Quirrell before the worst happened."

"Oh, so it was you I heard, calling my name right before I blacked out?"

"Yes, it was me."

"So Kieran's owl found you?"

"Ah, we must have passed in mid-flight. The poor bird; it will have been so disappointed. No. No sooner had I arrived in London than I realised I would be doing far more good in the place I had just left. Unfortunately even for a wizard as skilled as myself and no matter how fast a thestral can fly, as you witnessed on the Hogwarts Express the journey between here and London is quite a ways."

Harriet had no idea what a thestral was but had far more important things on her mind at the moment.

"So, what happened to Quirrell?" Harriet asked, though somehow deep in her mind she felt she knew the answer already. Dumbledore gave a sympathetic sigh.

"He died... the wounds he sustained touching your skin under the foolish orders from Lord Voldemort did do considerable damage, but I believe Voldemort fleeing Quirrell's body was what finished him. Voldemort shows as little pity for his followers as he does for his enemies, Harriet. You had no choice but to retaliate as you did. In doing so, you displayed a wherewithal and determination far beyond many even as old as I. I do not imagine I could be more proud of you. And even more, I dare say, your parents would be the proudest of you."

Harriet felt her cheeks getting red-hot and knew she was blushing. Dumbledore suddenly became quite fascinated by a sparrow that had landed on the nearby windowsill as Harriet felt tears pouring out of her eyes.

Harriet took a deep breath to compose herself and was pleased that the tears had stopped. "So, what's happened to the Stone?" she asked, though again, for some reason she felt sure she knew the answer already.

"Ah yes, the Stone, well, Nicolas and I had the opportunity the day after your triumph to discuss the Stone. And we both decided it was for the best of everyone that the Stone is destroyed."

"Destroyed? But, what about Nicolas and Perenelle...? Without the Stone they'll die, won't they...?"

Dumbledore's face finally fell a little, and he sighed.

"Yes, they have made enough Elixir of Life to put their affairs in order, say their goodbyes, and then, yes, they will die."

Harriet felt her jaw slacken with amazement. They had willingly chosen to give up the Stone and die?

"To one as young as you, I know it must seem astounding. But when you've reached the age of Nicolas and Perenelle... Well, to put it in Nicolas' words, it is like going to bed after a very, very long day."

Harriet tried to digest this. It made her head hurt quite a bit, but she thought she saw a bit of what Dumbledore was saying.

"And of course Harriet, keep in mind that to the well-organised mind, death is but the next great adventure. There are worse things in this world than dying. It is something your parents understood full well. And in the end, the Stone was not such a wonderful thing. In fact, some, I believe your friend Dora included, would call it a terrible thing. As much life and gold as you could ever want? Those are the two things people, Lord Voldemort perhaps more than any, would choose above anything else. Though of course, that is one of humanity's greatest failings. We always seem to choose the things that are worst for us."

Harriet tried to mull these words over in her head. She wanted to say that Dumbledore was right; it indeed seemed a much more reasonable argument anyway. But the pain in her forehead was rising, and she lay back down on the bed.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Harriet?"

"This is just something I've just noticed now, but all my friends seem to be terrified even to say Voldemort's name... but you don't."

"I see. Do you feel fear when you say or hear his name?"

"No sir... but I never knew I was supposed to."

"And thus we see the lesson that sometimes ignorance is not always a sin. My advice to you Harriet is to keep using his name. The fear of a name increases the fear of the thing itself."

Harriet nodded, and Dumbledore smiled.

"So, Voldemort hasn't gone, has he? He's still alive too?"

"Yes, Harriet. But do not think what you and your friends did was fruitless. A delay in your enemy's advance is still a victory. And if we can delay him again, and again, we may stop him from ever returning. Sometimes when the fight seems blackest and hope is at its least is when we will find the most strength."

Harriet rubbed her sore forehead a little as she tried to digest this information. She was starting to get very sleepy again, but she had more questions.

"So, sir... there's something else I wanted to ask... it's about something Voldemort said..."

Unless Harriet was much mistaken, Dumbledore's face seemed to get a little paler.

"And, well, it's something I'd like to know the truth about..." Harriet continued.

Dumbledore sighed deeply. "The truth... it is a terrible and wonderful thing, and so we need to handle it with care. However, I promise to answer any questions you have, unless I have an excellent reason not to, and I do hope you will forgive me for that. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Well, Voldemort said he'd come to kill me, and that my mother didn't need to die... but, why was he there to kill me in the first place? I was just a baby..."

Dumbledore let out a deep sigh.

"Ah Harriet, alas the first question you ask is the one I cannot answer. You will hate to hear it, but now is not the time for you to know. When you are older, and preferably not laid up in a hospital bed after very narrowly avoiding death, I will tell you."

Harriet opened her mouth but looking up into the piercing blue eyes, Harriet knew she wouldn't gain anything trying to argue.

"And then... why did it burn Quirrell to touch my skin?"

Dumbledore's mouth twitched a little in a way that Harriet couldn't tell if it was a smile or a grimace.

"Well, Voldemort himself practically told you. And I admit that it does make me feel a little relieved that even now, Voldemort does not seem to understand his mistake. Quirrell could not touch you because your mother died to save you. If there is one thing in this world that Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realise then, and he fails to realise even now, that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves a mark. There is no visible sign of this mark; it becomes a part of who you are. And so, when Professor Quirrell, twisted as he was by hatred and greed, sharing a soul with Lord Voldemort, he was put in great agony. It was impossible for him to truly come into contact with someone who'd been so blessed by something so truly good."

Harriet felt her eyes watering again and her lips tightening.

"I tried... I didn't want to hurt him... I tried to get him to give up Voldemort..."

Harriet felt Dumbledore's hand rest gently on her shoulder.

"Even in that Harriet, you've proven what a good person you are. Voldemort has no idea just what a person he is facing, even at your age."

Harriet felt the tears flowing in earnest now, but she didn't bother to wipe her eyes. She wasn't ashamed of them. Dumbledore kept smiling.

"So... it was you... wasn't it... who sent me the invisibility cloak?" Harriet asked halting trying to get her composure back a little so she could ask more questions.

"Oh yes, your father happened to leave it in my possession before he died. To your father, it was mostly a tool of mischief-making, but I thought, rather rightly, that you would find much more important uses for it."

The mention of her father reminded her of something else.

"And, sir, there's something else."

"Fire away, Harriet."

"Quirrell said Professor Snape is... what was it? Oddly protective of me, even though he and my father hated each other?"

"Ah yes, well they did rather detest each other," Dumbledore said and chuckled. "Fortunately for us, but perhaps unfortunately for Professor Snape from a certain point of view, that hatred was solidified when your father did something Professor Snape could never forgive."

"What was that, sir?"

"He saved his life."

Harriet felt her jaw fall slack and Dumbledore smiled.

"Oh yes, funny how some people think isn't it? Professor Snape, I'm sure, found nothing more detestable than being in your father's debt, and so I'm sure he felt if he saved your life this year, they would be even, and he could return to hating your father in peace."

Harriet tried to wrap her head around this information too, but she was getting far too tired to focus too hard anymore, and she had one last question.

"And sir, just one more thing."

"Just one?"

"Yes, how did I get the Stone?"

"Ah, now I'm delighted you asked me that, even if it will cost me some of my usual seemly modesty, as it was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. The enchantment I put upon the Stone and the Mirror meant that only one who wished to find the Stone, but not use it, could retrieve it. That way one such as Quirrell or Voldemort who wanted to use it could only see themselves making Elixir of Life, or gold... Ahh, my brain surprises even me sometimes.

"And now Harriet, given your heavy looking eyes, I suggest you rest yourself a little more before you get started on these considerable sweets. Ah! Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans! I was unfortunate enough in my youth to happen across a vomit flavoured one, and since then I'm afraid I have rather lost my liking for them. Hmmm... perhaps I will be safe with a nice toffee?"

Dumbledore smiled and put a honey-brown bean into his mouth. However, instead of looking as though he enjoyed it, he choked.

"Alas... ear-wax..."

Harriet smiled in spite of herself as she watched Professor Dumbledore slowly shuffle away. Though she was tired, Harriet still turned her attention to the table beside her. She was quick to open and pop a Chocolate Frog in her mouth before turning to the little pile of cards.

Most of them were 'get well soon' cards, with a few thank you notes, and more than a couple of them were brimming with admiration. It was Hermione's though that caught her the most. It was part of the tallest package, so tall it was the taller than the pile of sweets.

_Dear Harriet,_

_My parents bought me these books to read when I was little, and I enjoyed them very much. If you don't mind, I'd like you to have them though, as I think you embody the heroine a little more than I do. I hope you enjoy them! It's not all of them, but they are the original editions._

_Love,_

_Hermione_

 

Harriet smiled and shook her head. Of course, while everyone else (with the notable exception of Fred and George) got her sweets, Hermione got her books.

Harriet picked up the rather heavy present and carefully opened it. It was quite a stack of books indeed, all of them titled with the conspicuous name: _Nancy Drew Mystery Stories_. Harriet furrowed her brow curiously. She remembered seeing them at her old school library but had never read them before. But if Hermione thought they were good, Harriet really couldn't think of a better endorsement. She opened the top one, _The Secret of the Old Clock_ , and started to read.

## * * * *

The best thing to happen after Harriet had awoken came the following day when Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori finally relented and allowed all of her friends to come and visit her. Absent amongst them was Dora, who Hermione explained was still spending time with Nicolas and Perenelle before they finally passed away. Harriet felt sorry for Dora, and even quite guilty, but somehow as she sat there in bed, recounting the true tale of what had happened after she had gotten through the fire, seeing the looks of wonder and concern on her friends' faces, Harriet couldn't help but smile.

Her friends were a perfect audience. Hermione shrieked when Harriet told them about Voldemort's face in the back of Quirrell's head. They also told Harriet their own stories in return. Kieran, it turned out, had made it all the way to the owlery, sending off the owl. He'd then returned to the third-floor corridor, where he was able to put Fluffy back to sleep so that Dora and Marcus could help the still very dazed Ronnie out of the trap-door. Dora had tried to go back in, but the two boys managed to convince her to wait, that Dumbledore should be returning soon.

"And then just as Hermione and Scott got back, Dumbledore showed up," Ronnie explained.

"Aye, he somehow knew, he didn't even say anything to us, he just strode past, leapt down into the trap door, and then ten minutes later he came back out carrying you in his arms. You looked like you were..." Kieran explained though he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

"You know, I've been thinking about it all... giving you the cloak like that... letting you find out how the mirror worked... do you think Dumbledore intended for you to be the one to go after Quirrell and You-Know-Who? I mean I wouldn't even be surprised if Dumbledore said Dora's last name out loud at Christmas to help clue you in," Ronnie said looking thoughtful.

Hermione looked scandalised. "Well if he did that would be awful! I mean all of us could have been killed, especially you Harriet!"

"No... I don't know he's a funny man, Dumbledore. It's almost like he felt I had the right to face Voldemort if I could, and I guess... I guess I do..." Harriet said as she looked at them. "I mean, I am the one who stopped him the first time... so I think he just taught us all enough to help. I don't think it was an accident he let me find out how the Mirror worked, and I think you're right, Ronnie, I'll bet you anything he said Dora's name aloud on purpose. I don't think much of anything goes on here that Dumbledore doesn't know about."

There were a few moments of quiet as they all digested this theory. Then Ronnie smiled and changed the subject. "Well, forgetting all that, Harriet, you have to be up for the end of year feast tomorrow!"

"Oh yeah!" Harriet said then felt her heart sink. "Who won...?"

"Slytherin..." Ronnie muttered. "We got flattened by Ravenclaw in the final match without you. But the food'll be great!"

Just then, Madame Pomfrey bustled over, looking irritable.

"Alright, you've had half an hour, that is quite long enough. Back to bed-rest with you, Potter, you can see your friends again tomorrow."

## * * * *

The following morning, Harriet was finally starting to get restless. Her scar hadn't hurt for a whole day, she'd already read the first two of the Nancy Drew books that Hermione had given her, and she was getting very annoyed having to be in bed all the time.

"So, Madame Pomfrey, would it, I mean, could I please go to the feast tonight?"

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips as she checked Harriet's pulse and temperature.

"Professor Dumbledore requested you attend..." Madame Pomfrey muttered, sounding slightly disapproving.

Just that moment there was a knock on the door. Harriet heard Miss Momori answer it and saw that she had a slightly knowing smile as she stepped around the edge of the curtains.

"Well, Potter, it looks like you have another visitor."

"Oh, who is it?" Harriet asked, curiously.

As she asked, the massive head of Hagrid appeared over the top of the curtains. Madame Pomfrey and Miss Momori bustled off, and Hagrid sat on the floor beside Harriet (the chair being too weak to carry his weight, and he was more than tall enough already), looked her in the eyes, and broke down into sobs.

"It's all my fault! All mine! I told him! I told that evil git how to get past Fluffy! I nearly got you killed! I'll never drink another drop again! I should be chucked out once and fer all! Not fir ter live a life better than a Muggle!"

"Hagrid!" Harriet gasped, shocked at the display of emotion coming from her out-sized friend. "This, this is Voldemort we were talking about! He probably would have just killed Fluffy or had Quirrell do it for him if you hadn't told him! It was them who were hurting the unicorns after all!"

"But yeh could've been killed! You an' all of yer friends! And don't say 'is name!"

"VOLDEMORT!" Harriet shouted. She shocked Hagrid so much that she made him stop crying. "I've met him, and I beat him again, so I'm calling him by his name. I'm not going to let my fear rule me, and neither should you."

Harriet patted Hagrid's giant hand and saw his lower lip starting to wobble again.

"Cheer up, Hagrid, we did it, we saved the Stone! It's gone, and he can't use it to return to power anymore. He's still just a whiff of dust or whatever he is."

Harriet reached over to her bedside table and grabbed up a Chocolate Frog and held it up to him. "Have a Chocolate Frog; people gave me way too many..."

Hagrid smiled looking down at it, "Neh, yeh've earned it more than I, 'sides it'd take a bit more than that fer me," he chuckled and patted his enormous torso. "But you did remind me, got a present for yeh. Dumbledore gave me the day off yesterday ter put it all together for yeh, I mean 'ee shoulda sacked me instead but, anyway, I made yeh this."

Hagrid reached into his pocket and drew out a leather-bound book. It had a bare cover, but inside was the most fabulous treasure Harriet had ever seen in her life. On every page was moving, wizarding pictures of her parents. In every one they were smiling and waving, laughing happily. Some of them were even of her parents when they were at Hogwarts.

There was also one of her parents at their wedding. Her mother looked so beautiful in her dress, and her father was so handsome. Despite herself, she also had to admit that the young man standing next to her father, who she assumed was his best man, was very handsome as well. The best one, however, was one that had to have been taken just after she'd been born. Her mother was lying on a bed, her hair dishevelled and her eyes half closed, but her smile utterly full as she looked down on the little bundle of blankets in her arms. Her father was sitting on the bed beside her, holding out a bottle of champagne at the camera and laughing with tears in his eyes, looking beside himself with joy.

"I knew ya didn't have any photos of 'em, not with the gits yeh grew up with... D'yeh... d'yeh like it...?" Hagrid asked. His throat sounded a little tight.

Harriet looked up at him. She kept trying to force out words, but they wouldn't come. Finally, she swung her legs out of bed and jumped, hugging him as tightly around the neck as she could, tears pouring down her cheeks now. She felt Hagrid's giant arms hug her back.

It was eight-o-clock that night before Harriet finally made her way down to the Great Hall. Madame Pomfrey had delayed her considerably with her fussing final check-ups. The surprise, however, came when Harriet made it to the Entrance Hall. As she entered, she saw a little family sitting together and talking on one of the benches. It was Dora, and people Harriet could only assume were her parents. Dora looked over and saw her and immediately got to her feet.

Harriet felt distinctly awkward. She had been worrying about seeing Dora again, not knowing how Dora would take the destruction of the Stone and the inevitable death of her multi-great-grandparents. To her surprise, Dora gave a sad little smile and walked to Harriet, taking her by the hand and leading her to her parents.

Dora looked to be her mother in miniature. Her mother was tall and gracefully thin, with a round face, a little button nose and long, blond hair. Her father was a handsome though burly man, wide-shouldered and barrel-chested with a full beard and moustache, though as Harriet looked up at him, she saw that Dora had gotten his wide, twinkling blue eyes.

"And zo we finally meet Miss Harriet Potter," Dora's father said, extending a large, powerful looking hand. He had a distinctly French accent, though it was kindly and softer than she'd expected, and his English was excellent. Harriet held out her hand to shake, but to her surprise instead, he merely took it in his hand and bent low over it before standing back up and smiling.

"Dora has told us so much about you over the last couple of days," Dora's mother said. As she did, Harriet couldn't help but imagine that she sounded just the way Dora probably would when she was older.

"Oh, th-thanks," Harriet said, feeling a little lame. "I'm... I'm sorry about—"

"Not at all, Harriet, please, do not blame yourself. You did a great, brave and wonderful sing for ze wizarding world. Ze choice to destroy ze stone was my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfazer's, and his alone."

"Yes, my dear, in fact, that's why we're here, we wanted to thank you in person. Nicolas and Perenelle wanted to come, but it seems that finally, their age is catching up with them," Dora's mother said kindly.

Dora's father reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter and handed it to Harriet.

"He did, however, want us to give you zis. He requested you read it in private."

Harriet nodded taking it. Dora's mother smiled warmly.

"We're thrilled Dora made friends like you here Miss Potter," She said putting a hand on Harriet's shoulder. Harriet couldn't help but smile, giving Dora a sideways glance and seeing her blushing brightly and trying to avoid Harriet's eyes.

"Well, we won't keep you any longer from ze feast. Dora, dear, would you like us to wait for you, or would you like to remain tonight to come home on ze train wis your friends tomorrow?" her father asked. Dora looked up at him then finally at Harriet. Harriet couldn't help but smile invitingly.

"I'll... I'll stay mum, dad," Dora said and quickly gave them both hugs. They smiled down at Dora and Harriet and waved them off to the Great Hall.

"So we're friends now, huh?" Harriet asked under her breath as they walked. Dora bumped Harriet hard in the shoulder with her own.

"Shut it, Potter..." she said sounding a little grouchy. Harriet kept smiling though it only took Dora another couple of paces before she said, "Of course we are. You don't put a giant three-headed dog to sleep, fight off Devil's Snare, catch an enchanted key and play a giant game of Wizard's Chess with someone and not become friends with them."

Harriet laughed, and they finally pushed open the door to the Great Hall. Her eyes were hit by a giant wave of green. The Great Hall was entirely decked out in Slytherin green, in celebration of Slytherin's winning the House Cup. As they stepped in, the Great Hall immediately fell silent, before it once again broke out in noise. This time, however, it was hushed whispering, some people even going up on tip-toe to look at her. Harriet felt herself blush and Dora gave her another sad little smile before she made her way to the Slytherin table and Harriet went off to the Gryffindor table.

Hermione and Ronnie both moved aside for her to sit between them. Kieran and Marcus both smiled welcoming, and Dean, Seamus, Parvati and Lavender all leaned over to start asking Harriet questions themselves when Professor Dumbledore himself stood up, and the Great Hall felt silent.

"Alas! Another year has come and gone! And before we all stuff ourselves to the brim with our delicious feast so we can hardly move, I please ask you to give me but a few more minutes of your time."

By the sound of reverent silence, Harriet was quite sure that even with the feast coming, everyone was more than anxious to hear anything Dumbledore had to say.

"My, what a year it has been! Hopefully, you all learned a little and managed to fill your heads right to the brim with new knowledge while you were here, as you have an entire summer ahead of you to empty them once more.

"Now, before we begin, the House Cup needs awarding once more. As of now, the points stand, thus: In fourth place is Gryffindor, with two hundred sixty-two points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred fifty-two points; in second place, Ravenclaw, with four hundred twenty-six; and finally in first place, Slytherin, with four hundred seventy-two."

There was a roar of sound from the Slytherin table. Harriet felt slightly ill, watching Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and Pixie Fanfarró, in particular, jumping up and down and slamming their silverware on the table, chanting and cheering.

"Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin, well done," Dumbledore said, and the din died down a little more. "However, there are recent events which must be taken into account."

At these words, complete silence fell over the Great Hall.

"In light of recent events, which I must take into account, there is quite the swarm of new points that have to be taken into consideration.

"First, to Mister Scott McIntyre, for his demonstration of excellent knowledge of Astronomy, I award Ravenclaw House fifty points."

The Ravenclaw table exploded with noise. Doing the math in her head, Harriet knew that put Ravenclaw House four points ahead of Slytherin, putting them in the lead.

"Ahem," Dumbledore said, calming the Ravenclaws down. "And second, it takes a great deal of courage to go against one's own house and do what is right. Therefore, I award Dora Flamel and Slytherin House another fifty points."

What happened next was one of the more odd reactions Harriet had ever seen. Even though Slytherin House was once again in the lead, their response was oddly subdued. Harriet supposed it was because, on the one hand, Dora had put Slytherin House back in the lead, but on the other hand, she had done so helping out Harriet and her friends. Dora, on the other hand, looked quite pleased with herself, as did her other friend Sae, who was hugging her around the shoulders in a congratulatory way.

"And third, to Miss Ronnie Weasley, for the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has perhaps ever seen, and courageous self-sacrifice, I award Gryffindor House, fifty points."

Gryffindors burst into loud applause all along the table, many reaching over to pat Ronnie on the shoulder.

"My sister, you know! My little sister! Got past McGonagall's giant chess set even sacrificing herself to do it!" Harriet could hear Percy shouting proudly.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat and silence fell again.

"Fourth, to Mister Marcus Van Der Lakk, for a cool mind, and excellent use of his talents and his lessons to come to the aid of his friends in a time of great need, I award Gryffindor House a further fifty points."

Gryffindors were cheering louder than ever. They had moved up to third place now.

"Fifth, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor House another fifty points."

Hermione burst into tears and buried her face in her arms as Gryffindor again broke into cheers. Harriet looked over and managed to catch Kieran's eyes. Unlike the rest of them, Kieran was only sitting and applauding. Harriet thought she knew why. Of all of them, Kieran was the only one who hadn't gone through any of the trials.

"And sixth, to Miss Harriet Potter, for her pure nerve, and her outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor House, sixty points."

Gryffindors exploded once more with cheers. They were almost tied with Ravenclaw. If only Dumbledore had given Gryffindor House another ten points. Harriet leaned forward and squeezed Kieran's hand. He looked down at her hand on his and returned the squeeze, though he still looked miserable.

"And seventh, to Mister Kieran O'Brien," Dumbledore said.

Kieran jumped and looked up at Dumbledore in disbelief. "It is certainly brave to rush off into the face of danger in support of your friends. But it takes a special kind of character and bravery to be the one to volunteer to remain behind and give the other support your friends need. I, therefore, award Gryffindor House another fifty points."

Kieran's mouth fell open, utterly slack as Gryffindor House was finally on its feet. The fifty points Kieran had won put them equal to Slytherin House. They had drawn for the House Cup. Dora was on her feet too and bringing horrid looks from the surrounding Slytherin students for it.

Dumbledore once more raised his hand and quiet reclaimed the Great Hall.

"There are all kinds of courage in this world, and it takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to one's enemies. But it takes just as much, if not more, to stand up to our friends. I, therefore, award Neville Longbottom and Gryffindor House a final ten points."

Harriet's ears were ringing. Neville was bowled over in the wave of students that were hugging him. Ronnie had climbed over the table to do so; kissing his cheek and making him go so pink in the face Harriet thought his head might explode. Neville had never won as much as a point for Gryffindor the entire year. Harriet looked up at Professor Dumbledore and couldn't help but smile at who she now recognised as the kindest man she had ever known. Seeing the looks of sheepish pride on Kieran and Neville's faces, Harriet knew Dumbledore had intentionally saved them for last, making them the two heroes of Gryffindor House, and she was incredibly grateful for it.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the banners changed from green to maroon. Malfoy, Parkinson and Fanfarró were looking utterly miserable, which only made Harriet feel even happier. Harriet saw Professors McGonagall and Snape shaking hands. Professor Snape looked like he had second-class as he forced a smile on his face. Professor McGonagall caught Harriet's eye and gave her a little wink. Harriet tried to catch Professor Snape's eye too, but he was now steadfastly looking in another direction. She had the odd desire to ask him about having known her father, but she knew that was merely wishful thinking.

Harriet felt it was the best evening of her life. The party continued into the night. On their way back to the common room, several older students, including Fred, George, and Oliver Wood bore Neville and Kieran on their shoulders. Neville, of course, hit his head on an overhang, but he still seemed so overjoyed he didn't seem to notice. Harriet knew she would never, ever, forget tonight.

However, later that night as she lay in bed, Harriet finally pulled out and read Nicolas Flamel's letter. When she'd finished, she had tears in her eyes again, though she ultimately felt better about everything that had happened.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_I know it sounds odd to someone your age for me to say so, but I want to thank you for what you have done. Perenelle and I did rather wear out our welcome in this lifetime. It is now time for us to take our new adventure._

_But more than that, I especially want to thank you for the kindness and acceptance you have shown to our dearest granddaughter, Dora. She had been down to attend Beauxbatons near where her family lives, but with Voldemort openly after the Stone, our worry that Dora may become a target herself was too high, and so we sent her with the Stone to Hogwarts. One could say she was there for protection as much as the Stone was._

_Most of her childhood friends, however, still went to Beauxbatons, and it was our great worry that Dora would have a hard time fitting in. She is, after all, quite as headstrong as her great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandmother, and come to think of it all her great-grandmothers since, her grandmother, and her mother. But having heard that she met someone like you who accepted her for who she was has heartened me greatly and was the best gift you could have given to someone of my excessively long age._

_Do not feel sorry for Perenelle and myself. We are quite ready for what is to come, and we wish you all the best in your coming years. Our one regret is that we did not think of destroying the Stone sooner, as it would have saved you considerable peril, but then, in the end, we would have cost you the chance to prove your qualities. You are a genuinely great witch, my dear, and you have every right to be proud of yourself. When I see them on the other side, I shall be quite sure to tell your parents what a good person you have made of yourself, though I have no doubt they now that quite well enough already._

_All the best,_

_Nicolas and Perenelle Flamel_

## * * * *

The exam results were handed out at breakfast the following day. Harriet and her friends had passed everything, and fairly well too. Hermione was even top of their year, with Scott behind her by only a few points. As they showed each other their results and Harriet saw the looks on Hermione and Scott's faces, Harriet knew at once that a friendly rivalry had begun between the two that would probably continue until their very last day at Hogwarts.

It all happened very fast that day. In no time at all, Harriet's trunk was packed, Hedwig shut safely in her cage, Neville's toad Trevor was found, and they were all given their notices informing them they were not allowed to use magic outside of school, much to Fred and George's continued misery.

Instead of the boats, however, Hagrid lead them all to a long line of carriages that seemed to be magically enchanted to pull themselves, as they had no horses. They also seemed to be magically larger on the inside than they appeared on the outside, as Harriet, Ronnie, Hermione, Kieran, Marcus, Scott, Dora and even Neville all managed to fit into the carriage. Harriet felt her mood slowly slipping down as they boarded the Hogwarts Express at Hogsmeade Station and it began chugging away from the platform.

She still joined in all the fun her friends were having as they went. They replayed the game of dare she and Ronnie had started on the Hogwarts Express their first time, daring each other to eat randomly drawn Every-Flavour Beans and trying to guess what the flavours would be before they did. As she looked around at them all talking and laughing, Harriet felt her mood climbing. Even if she were going back to the Dursley's, it would only be two short months before she was again aboard this very same train. And besides, she had Hedwig; she could keep in touch over the summer.

The train finally arrived that evening back at King's Cross station. There was a bit of a rush getting off the train, and many yells of happiness as parents and students reunited. Many people called farewells to her as she and her friends made their way to the barrier to the Muggle world.

"Still famous," Ronnie whispered in her ear grinning.

"Heh, not where I'm living..."

"Oh, that reminds me! You lot have to visit this summer! I'll send an owl!"

"There mum! There she is! I can see her!" called a shrill voice as they got near the barrier. It was Ronnie's mother, Mrs Weasley with Ronnie's younger sister, Ginny. Ginny had grown a little during the school year and was waving frantically. She broke from her mother's grasp and ran up to them, first giving Ronnie, Fred, George and even Percy rib-cracking hugs before turning to Harriet and shaking her hand vigorously.

"Hi! I'm Ginny, Ginny Weasley, Ronnie, Fred, George and Percy's little sister! Oh, it's so great to meet you finally!" Ginny said talking a mile a minute.

"Oh I, uh, thanks," Harriet said, blushing brightly. Ginny continued to beam.

"So how was your year?! Is Hogwarts amazing!? I bet it is! I bet you were top of the year too!"

"Er, no, that was my friend, Hermione, here."

"You were!?" Ginny asked looking equally impressed and shaking Hermione's hand. "You must be so smart! I can't wait for next year when we're all there together!"

"Now, now, Ginny," Mrs Weasley said as she finally caught up with them. "Hello, dears, did you have a good year, busy?"

"Yes to both, Mrs Weasley!" Harriet said, smiling. "And thank you so much for the jumper and the fudge!" Harriet said and hugged Mrs Weasley around the waist.

"Oh! Oh well, it was nothing dear," Mrs Weasley said patting Harriet on the back.

They finally filed out onto Platform Nine. A ministry guard was letting them out through the barrier in pairs so they wouldn't alarm the Muggles. Harriet looked around once she'd gotten through, having walked through side by side with Ronnie, wondering when or even if the Dursleys would be coming for her.

"Ready, are you?" asked a gruff, irritable sounding voice nearby. Harriet turned to see Uncle Vernon, still as purple-faced, moustachioed, and angry as ever walking towards them. His gaze moved over the Weasleys and the owls on Harriet's and Percy's trunks, his face full of utter disapproval. Harriet could see Aunt Petunia and Dudley standing a few feet behind Uncle Vernon, looking terrified of not just Harriet but the whole swarm of other wizards standing with her as well.

"Oh, you must be Harriet's family!" said Mrs Weasley, walking up to Uncle Vernon and holding out a hand in greeting.

"Unfortunately," Uncle Vernon muttered, turning away from her to glare at Harriet. Mrs Weasley looked deeply insulted, and even Harriet couldn't help but glare back at Uncle Vernon for his rudeness. "Hurry up, girl, it's late enough as it is," He said before he turned to walk back to Aunt Petunia and Dudley.

Harriet lingered just long enough to give her final goodbyes to her friends.

"Okay, now I've seen them I'm sending you an owl as soon as possible!" Ronnie declared, looking beside herself with anger at the Dursleys. "Is that one Dudley? Come on let me poke him in the nose just once—"

"It's fine, Ronnie, it's fine, I can't wait to hear from you all."

"Hope you have a... well... as good a summer as possible," Kieran said looking utterly dumbfounded at the Dursleys. Hermione had found her parents and brought them over to introduce to everyone too. They were much friendlier people than the Dursleys, which seemed to reassure Ronnie quite a bit.

"Girl!" Uncle Vernon called angrily.

"See you all later then," Harriet called, gave everyone another round of hugs and turned to follow the Dursleys finally. Her friends had seemed a little perplexed at the smile Harriet had on her face. But in her head, Harriet remembered the notice in her trunk, the one telling her she couldn't do magic over the summer. The note she knew she would never show the Dursleys, and she knew would make her summer much more fun than the last.

It was as she stepped outside though that Harriet stopped once more. Unless she was much mistaken, she could hear a violin. It was a beautiful sound, but as she looked around, no one else seemed to hear it. She remembered back to last summer when she had arrived for the first time, the street performing violinist she had met. She looked around frantically, hoping it was him, but she didn't see anyone.

Then she remembered, well more of half-remembered. The violinist had said his violin had been "magic." And more than that, she thought she could remember someone having once told her when she got back to King's Cross to listen for something no one else could hear, and that when he heard it, she'd know someone was watching over her and keeping her safe. The feeling reassured her greatly, and she smiled, already eager to return for another year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sherrod Howe credit goes to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
> 
> Marcus Van Der Lakk, Kieran O'Brien and Scott McIntyre property of night-miner(dA)
> 
> Dora Flamel property of me!
> 
> Original concept idea by night-miner(dA) and littlebityamelie(dA)
> 
> Proof reading by night-miner(dA), littlebityamelie(dA) and h-a-cooke(dA)


End file.
